


There Was a Hole Here, It's Gone Now

by Tchosan



Category: Gorillaz, Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-01-16 16:21:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21274118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tchosan/pseuds/Tchosan
Summary: What started as a road trip spirals into a bloody, waking nightmare when Murdoc's car crashes outside Paleville. Stumbling unaware into Silent Hill, Murdoc, Noodle, 2D, and Russel face their demons as the Order stalks them from the shadows, and Claudia's interest grows in one of the newcomers... (Phase 2 Gorillaz/Silent Hill game-verse crossover)(father/daughter Murdoc and Noodle; no ships)Originally posted on Fanfiction.net





	1. Wrong is Right

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my old account on FF.net. I've edited it, and plan to continue the story.  
Every chapter is named after a song from various Silent Hill soundtracks that was chosen to accompany each chapter. Listen to the songs as you read for the background music!

* * *

_In the beginning, people had nothing._   
_Their bodies ached and their hearts held nothing but hatred._   
_They fought endlessly, but death never came._   
_They despaired, stuck in the eternal quagmire._

_A man offered a serpent to the sun, and_ _ prayed for salvation_  
_A woman offered a reed to the sun, and asked for_ _ joy._  
_Feeling pity for the sadness that had overrun the earth, _ _God was born from those two people._

_God made time and divided it into day and night._   
_God outlined the road to salvation and gave people joy._   
_And God took endless time away from the people._   
_God created beings to lead people in obedience to her._

_The Red God, Xuchilbara._  
_The Yellow God, Lobsel Vith._  
_Many Gods and Angels._  
_Finally, God set out to create paradise, _ _where people would be happy by just being there._

_But there, God's strength ran out, and she collapsed._   
_All the world's people grieved this unfortunate event._   
_Yet God breathed her last._   
_She returned to the dust promising to come again._

_So, God hasn't been lost._  
_We must offer her prayers and not forget our faith._  
_We wait in hope for the day when_ _ the path to paradise will be opened._

* * *

Murdoc’s eyes struggled open, light blinding him instantly. Something was ringing. His head hurt. Bad. He turned his head, rolling off the steering wheel. It felt sticky. A crushing, throbbing wave of nausea gripped him, and for a moment he couldn't tell what was up and what was down. He tried to sit up straight, and pain shot up his spine in a blinding shock. He groaned, the hazy light beginning to focus.  
  
He was in the car, he realized, his brain struggling to catch up with him. He felt as if he were drunk. The open door alert was beeping, becoming clearer as he tried to blink away his confusion. He glanced over, the passenger seat was empty and the door was thrown open. Murdoc tried to turn his head to look in the backseat and screamed out in pain. He clutched at his neck, his eyes screwing up. He licked his dry, cracked lips, his voice small and hoarse.  
  
“Noodle? …’D? Ru–” He coughed, every spasm sending a surge of pain through his bones in throbbing waves.  
  
He pawed for the door handle, his hands fumbled against the metal, finally throwing it open. He managed to struggle his legs out and touched his face. Bloodstained his fingers. Murdoc stared down at it, unable to register that it was coming from him.  
  
With a strong shove, he threw himself from the car, crawling on his hands and knees out onto the pavement. Every muscle in his body strained, buckling under his own weight. He rolled onto his back, squinting up at the grey sky. Fog surrounded the car on every side, thick and blinding. He panted, rubbing blood from his temple with the back of his hand. The world was spinning. He smacked his lips, the taste of metal filling his mouth.  
  
Murdoc craned his neck to look up at the car. The hood was driven into the guard rail like a wedge, crumpled. That long hood was probably the only reason he was still alive.

His head rolled back onto the pavement. Where were the others? He closed his eyes, rubbing his face. He remembered driving in the dark, in the rain, and Russ arguing with him about the route he was taking. He turned to look at 2D in the backseat. Then he hit something. The car jerked, and then… nothing.  
  
Murdoc dragged himself upwards, sitting up against the side of the car. Did they call an ambulance and got taken away? Did they walk out? He squeezed his eyes, his vision crossing. Why would they leave him there?  
  
He patted his pocket, fishing his phone out of his back pocket. No signal. No messages. No missed calls. He looked over at the backseat, his eyes darting to the ground. A red stain pooled beside the door and slid under the car. His blood went cold. He strained, getting on his hands and craning his neck to peer underneath. Noodle was lying there, her eyes closed. Fear turned to horror.  
He rolled onto his stomach, crawling under the car, ignoring the blinding pain that coursed through him.  
  
“Noods! Christ…”  
  
He pulled himself under the car, shaking her shoulder. She didn’t respond. He panted, grabbing her by the jacket. He heaved himself, dragging her inch by inch from under the Barracuda. He was sweating, every muscle in his body screaming. He groaned, pulling her into his lap. He slapped her face lightly, shaking her.  
  
“Noods, wake up!” He held his hand in front of her mouth and felt a small puff of air leave her.  
  
He sighed, shifting Noodle to lay across his legs. The left side of her face was brush-burned, and the palms of her hands were scraped. He tapped her collarbone, yelling her name. She was out cold.

Murdoc laid her down on the road, leaning up against the door as he struggled to his feet. A shot went through him and his ankle buckled, sending him stumbling to the ground, scraping his knee. He hissed, clutching at his leg. He panted on his back, waiting for the throbbing to dull. From the ground he could see another trail of blood from the passenger side, leaving the car and leading off into the fog. What happened to 2D and Russ? Maybe they thought the two of them were dead and left?  
  
He sat up, squinting at the road sign.  
  
** ASHVILLE** – 25 MILES  
** BRAHMS** – 13 MILES  
** PALEVILLE** – 3 MILES  
** SOUTH SILENT HILL / SOUTH VALE** – 2 MILES  
** OLD SILENT HILL** – 1 MILE  
  
He fumbled for his phone again. Still no service.  
  
“Fuck…”  
  
The fog was so thick, he couldn’t see up or down the road. He heard no cars, saw no lights. There was no sound. It was quieter than silence. No birds, no machines, no wind. Nothing. He coughed, wiping blood on his shirt. It didn’t seem like help would come to them. They’d have to go to it.  
  
Murdoc pushed himself up, leaning on his right ankle, and limped towards Noodle, shaking her lightly. She didn’t stir. He bent down, grabbing her by the wrists and pulling her up onto his back. He stumbled, struggling her upwards until her head leaned heavy on his shoulder, and his arms looped under her legs. He bit down on his lip, forcing himself upright. He nearly fell under the weight, standing through sheer will alone. He hefted her up further on his back, bent over. He took a careful step, his left ankle weak with pain. He didn’t know how far he could walk on it, but he’d have to.  
  
He took one shaky step, then another, until he could bear her weight and limp against his bad leg. He huffed, spitting out blood and phlegm onto the pavement.  
  
“Alright,” he muttered. “Okay. You can do this, Muds. Walk in the park. Only a fucking mile, not a goddamn problem.”  
  
He glanced back at the smashed-in car, eaten by the fog as he disappeared into the mist. He kept looking back until it was a vague black shape in the distance. He breathed in deep through his nose.  
  
“2D!” he called out, pulling Noodle higher onto his back. “Russ!”  
  
His ribs ached, and as he continued on trembling legs. The more he walked, the less his ankle bothered him and the more the pain grew in his neck. He grunted under the strain, shifting Noodle to keep the pressure off of the nape of his neck.  
  
With every half-step, his left foot cramping under the twisted muscles, he wanted to drop her. But he held tight, his teeth sinking into his cut lip.

From the fog, a small shadow moved, far away and nearly unseeable. Murdoc squinted, leaning on his right side and clearing his throat.  
  
“Hello?” he called out, his voice cracking. “Russ? ‘D?”  
  
The shadow moved in the mist, silent. He blinked, wondering if he was even seeing it, or if it was a trick of the light through the fog.  
  
“Anyone? We need help!” he narrowed his eyes. “D’you hear me?”  
  
The figure wavered on the edge of his sight, then disappeared, melting into the fog. He picked up his pace, faltering on his bad ankle. He nearly toppled over under Noodle as he stumbled after the shadow, the clacking of his boots echoing in the silence as he tried to catch up.  
  
“Wait!” he called out, his breath short.  
  
He panted hard, his lungs aching against bruised ribs, his breaths shallow and quick.  
  
Murdoc stumbled and fell to his knees, grinding his jeans into the pavement so roughly that he felt his skin rub raw underneath. He gasped, staring into the fog. There was the tall shadow, lingering just out of sight.  
  
“We’re hurt,” he called out, sucking in air through his bleeding nose. “Please help.”

A hiss of breath in his ear nearly made him piss himself. Noodle’s head moved slightly. Her cheek wriggled against his shoulder, her mouth getting close to his ear. He breathed a long sigh, his lungs burning. Relief washed over him.  
  
“Shit, Noodle, I thought you were a goner. You really had me going, you little—“  
  
“Be… quiet.”  
  
His smirk faded into an open-mouthed stare. His eyes slid over to the figure, still hovering in the fog, rocking from side to side.  
  
“Noodle…” he said in a low voice.  
  
Her chest rose and fell with a strangled noise, wheezing into his ear.  
  
“Killer…”  
  
The color drained from his face. The shadow was still. His voice was a whisper.  
  
“What do you mean? Noods, did he hurt you?”  
  
“Yes,” she breathed. “Wants you… to get closer.”  
  
Trembling, he got to his feet, stepping backward as silently as he possibly could, ignoring the wrenching pain of his ankle.  
  
“Can’t go back,” Noodle managed, coughing quietly. “Tried… Road… is gone.”  
  
“What the bloody hell do you want me to do?” he snapped, backing away.  
  
The figure slunk forward, gaining a step for each he took back. His body shook.  
  
“Run.”


	2. Regards

“Run."

“What?” he snapped, stumbling back.

He clutched Noodle’s legs vice-hard. The shadow slunk forward, swaying. His nails dug into her skin. It was as if his feet took root in the pavement and he was frozen to the spot. The oily shadow moved through the fog in a sickening jaunt.

“Past it,” she struggled, her head resting against his as she craned her neck to see.

“Are you fucking crazy?” he hissed, his voice lowering as the figure moved closer. “You want me to go _towards_ the creepy thing in the fog?”

He took another shaky step back, the pressure on his ankle sending a bolt of pain shooting up through his leg in a lightning crack and he cried out through gritted teeth. The silhouette of the creature bent forward, its spine arching in a deep crescent that made Murdoc feel sick deep in the pit of his stomach.

A piercing, strangled scream tore through the fog.

Murdoc's heart was in his gut, blood rushing in his ears as he swallowed his breaths.

From the mist, the shadow emerged. Not a man, not exactly. It stood like a man, naked, wrapped in its own skin. No face. Just flesh, pulled tight around the skeleton of a person. A cage made of flesh. It stumbled, leaning from side to side as it lurched forward. Its arms dragged along the ground, hands limp and long with fingers that grasped at air. Its head rolled from looking this way and that, and as it grew closer inch by inch, its face split into a wide mouth. The jaw hung down, gaping from its face to its knees opening a hole full of huge, dull teeth. A long, slimy tongue slid out, sliding along the road like a creature of its own, like a snake. Murdoc could smell the acrid stench of vomit drifting from it.

Cold sweat beaded down his back, and his legs shook. His mouth ran dry.

"What the fuck is that?!"

The figure hobbled forward, its back arching painfully as it shrieked. A foul odor leaked from it, turning Murdoc's stomach over with the stench of rotting flesh. He was paralyzed.

Noodle grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head back.

“Run!”

Murdoc moved without his consent. He jolted forward, limping as fast as he could past it. The creature seized, its throat making a horrid, gulping noise. The tongue slid across the ground towards him, following his footsteps. The creature shuddered, and a green liquid spewed out of its twisted mouth and splashed out onto the pavement, barely missing him. The stench turned Murdoc’s stomach. He felt bile bubble at the back of his mouth.

"Keep running!" she begged, her voice catching her her dry throat.

Fear gave him new strength and he tore down the street, ignoring the pain gripping his leg and the burden on his back. He didn’t look back. He could feel the creature following, making a sickening gurgling sound. His lungs burst with stinging air, expanding beyond his ribs until they were burning hot in his chest. He wheezed, his throat going dry until his tongue stuck to the back of his throat, but he didn't slow down until the screeching of the twisted creature died behind them in the fog, and there was nothing left but the sound of his heels hitting the road.

His legs turned numb, wobbling under the weight of both himself and Noodle, his entire body quaking. His thighs were stretched-out elastic bands, and his ankles swelled until they seemed about to burst from his boots. Desperate, he bent forward, urging Noodle off his back. She struggled down, falling to her knees as she tried to stand on her own.

"What..." he gasped, "What the fuck..."

"I don't know. It was here when I woke up."

He looked up at her, panting. She looked beaten. One side of her face was turning red under the skin and the other half was scraped up as if she'd skidded over the road. Brush burns ran up her side of her leg, bleeding in some spots.

“What happened?”

She winced, leaning forward.

“The car crashed, last night. You hit something. When I woke up, 2D and Russel… they were gone. I tried to wake you, but you wouldn’t. I thought you were dead. Your head hit the wheel. I got out to look for the others and I found that thing instead. It knocked me down, grabbed me by my foot, and dragged me across the road. I got my shoe off and ran.”

He looked down. He didn’t realize she had only had one shoe on, her yellow sock black with dirt.

“I got under the car. I must have hit my head in the crash, too. I couldn’t keep myself awake. I kept fading in and out.” She rubbed her cheek. “Where are they?”

Silence echoed in the fog around them. Murdoc’s eyes were locked on the ground. Noodle’s nerves were on fire.

"We have to look for them,” she said suddenly, shaking as she tried to stand.

Her hand shot to her side, a stabbing pain seizing her. Murdoc got to his feet, leaning to one side. His lungs felt as if they were fit to burst, and his legs quivered as he stood.

"You can't walk on your own," he mumbled, the taste of metal bubbling up in the back of his throat again.

"I can walk," she snapped.

He sighed.

“Take the offer while I can still stand up, love.”

Noodle’s breath hitched, and begrudgingly she clamored back onto him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He gripped her wrists tight and limped along the road, his panting drowning out the sound of the crushing silence around them.

They didn't have to go far. Neon beamed out of the fog, a pink sign burning through the mist like a lighthouse as the grey sky began to grow dimmer. He would have thanked god if he had an ounce of faith in his broken body. "Heaven's Night: Gentleman's Club." He coughed out a laugh.

"Cover your eyes when we get inside."

Noodle said nothing, crinkling her nose. His laugh died away.

It looked empty from the outside. No windows, no people, no sound. Rickety stairs lead up to a just as dirty-looking door plastered with ripped flyers and posters. Murdoc slid Noodle down off his back, looking down the street around them. A few other buildings dotted the street. Empty storefront windows all pasted up with newspaper. It didn't seem promising. But if there was anything Murdoc knew, it was girlie joints. Every shop in a city could be closed, but if there was a place to drink and watch a lady take off her clothes, it would stay open until the world ended.

He looked down at Noodle, his voice serious.

"Right, we’re going in. Just… don't touch anything. And don't look at anything. And don't talk to anybody. In fact, just don't do anything at all."

The door was open, but it was silent inside. No customers, no dancers, no music. The lights were on and drinks were on the bar, as if everyone had just gotten up and walked out, leaving everything behind. The door clicked closed behind them.

"Lively joint," he muttered.

Noodle was barely paying attention to him, slowly making her way over to the bar on shaky legs, her hand pressed to her side. He followed behind, limping.

"Don't think they'll serve you, Noods," he coughed, laughing.

"A phone."

He looked to where she was pointing – a dirty white phone dangled on its cord, nearly touching the floor. He gathered it up, pressing the speaker to his ear. A crackling, static noise was coming from it, hissing and snapping. He pressed down on the receiver, hitting buttons, but the sound didn't stop. It snapped loud in his ear and he jerked away, setting it down.

"It's fucked."

Noodle leaned on the bar, her eyes drooping under her hair. She was exhausted, and so was he.

"I think this town is empty."

"No shit. Looks like everyone just... left. That thing maybe..." He trailed off. He didn't want to think about it. It was unreal. He'd never seen anything like that man, or creature, or whatever the hell it was. He just knew he never wanted to see it again. The idea of having to go back outside made him shudder.

"It's gonna get dark soon," he mumbled. "We should uh... park it here for the night maybe.

"We need to leave this place," she insisted. "It's evil, I can feel something. We should keep going."

Murdoc agreed completely. He would have run away and kept running if he could. He was a second away from shutting himself in a closet and locking the door. Any reasonable person would have doubted what he'd seen, but he was far from a reasonable person and he was very willing to accept that a flesh monster was wandering around the East Coast. And the more frightening thought that bubbled up in him was that maybe it wasn't the only thing out in the fog. It had been bad enough in the light, but in the dark... he could only imagine what else was lurking around.

But his foot was fucked and his body was shot. His leg was nearly locked up and every muscle in his body burned. He wouldn’t make it another mile, passenger or not. And he certainly didn't want to do it in the dark.

"No. There's no way in hell I'm carrying you out on this ankle tonight."

Noodle swayed, leaning against the bar. She didn’t have the strength to argue.

Murdoc picked up a bottle of whiskey, smelling it.

"As a responsible guardian there's no way I would let you drink," he said, putting on his stern voice. "But seeing as though these are extenuating circumstances..."

He poured the whiskey into a foggy glass, wiping the rim with the edge of his filthy shirt. He knocked the glass back, drinking it down in one go. The vapor shot up his nose and made him cough. It stung the whole way down, sending a vibration of warmth through him. He shook the bottle at Noodle. She pushed his hand away gently.

"No, thank you."

“It’ll take the edge off the pain,” he encouraged.

Noodle shook her head.

"Suit yourself."

The glass clacked against the bar top, and silence settled in again. She clamored onto a bar stool, wincing. He eyed the hand she pressed to her ribs.

“Anything broken?”

“No, I don’t think,” she said quietly. “You look worse than me”

Murdoc closed his eyes, his head still thumping with dull waves of pain. He hadn’t seen himself, but he felt like a mess. He had his bell rung many times, but this time was particularly bad. He rubbed his face, dried blood coming off in his hand.

"Maybe we died and went to hell," he suggested. Noodle didn't seem amused. He shifted from his bad foot to the worse foot. "Yeah, you're right. There'd actually be strippers here if we had."

He looked over the scrapes all down her right side, from her face down her hand and wrist and leg, light red and looking like they burned. But he didn't like the way she was holding her left side.

Murdoc looked away, unsure of what to say.

"I'll do a little poke around," he said finally, heading for the steps of the stage. He forced a nervous laugh. "Maybe the girls are giving a private show in the back, heh heh."

Noodle watched him disappear behind the stage, and carefully she pulled back her jacket and lifted her shirt. A red mark swelled on her side, and in the center, a long slash where the creature’s tongue had cut her. She winced, touching the sticky gash. It had stopped bleeding. It ached and stung. She was hoping it wasn’t as bad as it felt. It was worse. Blood stained her shirt, a long rip running through it. She pulled it back down, covering it with her jacket again.

There wasn't much for Murdoc to poke into. There was an empty hall, a locked storage closet, an unbelievably dirty bathroom, and a back room with a couch, some thrown around clothes, and not much else. There was a first aid kit on the wall, well used and unstocked, but there was still some some antibiotic salve and bandages they could use for Noodle's brush burns. But there wasn’t enough gauze to wrap his ankle, so he settled for a pink chiffon scarf from the dressing room instead.

A skinny mirror hung on the wall. He leaned in, looking himself over. A huge red mark was forming on the side of his face, and his nose had been bleeding. Dried blood was smeared in a streak across his cheek. He rubbed at it with the sleeve of his jacket, crusted blood peeling off. His hair was brushed back from his forehead, greasy with sweat, and his right eye was swelling where he’d hit the steering wheel. He couldn’t turn his neck too far one way or the other without a surge of pain hitting him. Noodle was right, he looked like a mess.

The only window in the building was a thin one at the top of the wall in the back room. He had to climb up onto the couch to look out. Darkness began to fall outside, and the streetlights – the few that there were – flickered on, barely piercing the fog. He didn’t like what he saw, which was nothing. No cars, no people, not even a cat or a bird. Nothing. It unsettled him. He moved along, trying not to think about it, though of course it was the only thing he could think of.

He limped back to the bar, gathering Noodle up. He wanted her close, afraid that if he left her alone for too long she'd vanish or that thing would come and find a way in. He helped her to her feet and rushed her into the back room, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.

She fell back onto the couch, hissing in pain, keeping her hand clapped over her side. Murdoc sat down beside her, peeling the shoes off his swollen feet. Under his socks, gaping red blisters had formed. Cuban heels were meant for casual on-and-off city walking, not backpacking on concrete for miles. He winced, rubbing his ankle. Twisted, for sure, maybe worse. He wrapped the scarf around it, stretching his leg out. His whole body ached like he’d never felt before.

“When did you get so bloody heavy?” he groaned, rubbing his neck.

She snorted, her eyelids drooping.

“I’m not ten anymore.”

“Yeah, well you still look it.”

That was a lie. She was getting taller, almost as tall as him. It frightened him, but he didn’t want to admit it. Time was passing, and every time he looked at her, he was reminded of that. It didn’t seem so long ago she barely came up to his waist. Now she was a teenager. He was getting older too. Another thought he would have rather not dwelled on.

He shifted, pulling the salve and bandages out of his jacket.

“Here, slap this on.”

She took them, grunting as she leaned forward. His body went slack, exhaustion hitting him like a wall. He blinked slow, his eyes unfocused.

"I'm going to... rest my eyes, just a sec. Just a minute."

Noodle rubbed the salve into the open burns, plastering bandages over the worst ones. Murdoc was leaned back on the couch, his eyes shut. She watched him, listening as his breath evened out and he quietly fell asleep.

She turned away from him, shedding her jacket and looking down at the wound. She squeezed a lump of paste onto her finger, dabbing it along the gash. She squeezed her eyes tight, groaning. She took the rest of the bandages and pulled the cut closed as tightly as she could. It was seeping, but no more blood poured from it. She knew it was bad. It was a cut that could easily get infected and every reasonable thought in her mind was screaming that she needed to say something, needed to get to a hospital. But she couldn’t. If she told Murdoc he’d make her leave, without Russel, without 2D.

She struggled the jacket back on, sighing. She could feel every nerve in her screaming for sleep, but she was awake, staring at the ceiling and listening to the crushing nothingness. The tiny window on the far wall was the only source of light, where a slit of orange leaked through from the streetlamps. She locked onto it, staring for what felt like hours.

Where were they? She remembered the trail of blood from where Russel had been sitting up front, leading off the road and into the woods. She should have followed it instead of going up the road. But then Murdoc would have been alone.

She looked over at him, his mouth open as he slept. He would have been panicking now if she wasn’t around, if not dead through his own recklessness. Though she was his junior by many years and he was supposed to be taking care of her, it often felt the opposite most of the time.

Her eyelids drooped and she looked back at the spot of light on the ground, feeling her head growing heavy. The stillness lulled her into a daze, and slowly she started to drift away.

But out of the nothingness there was suddenly a sound, so quiet at first that it blended into the silence until Noodle shot upright in fear. A low rumble grew into a screaming siren, like ungodly trumpets groaning underground. Distant, but still horrifyingly too close. She shook Murdoc awake, clapping a hand over his mouth.

They listened in silence to the sound, loud and low and terrifying. She reached out and grabbed Murdoc's shirt so hard she nearly choked him. He clutched her, hiding her face in his jacket. His heart was in his throat, pounding with the hellish whine outside. He gripped onto Noodle tight, just as much out of fear as an attempt to protect, and she gripped back just as hard.

The siren died out, suddenly. It droned back into the white noise of nothing and disappeared completely, leaving a low echo in their ears. Noodle shifted to stand, but Murdoc had her tight with both hands vice gripped onto her shoulders.

"Not a chance," he hissed.

She opened her mouth to fight him, but stayed, her mouth dry and palms sweating. Murdoc would not slacken his grasp. He held tight, until the last of the echo had wrung out of their ears, and there was nothing but the crushing quiet of the night air.


	3. The Healer

Murdoc woke up with Noodle sprawled over his lap. He groaned, pushing her lightly aside and sliding out from under her. She muttered and turned over, burying her face in the dirty red cushions. He squinted towards the tiny window, a dim, grey light leaking through. It was finally morning. He rubbed his head, the ungodly trumpeting sound still echoing in his head the way it did in his sleep. The drive to simply go back to sleep and forget everything was overwhelming, but fear alone stirred him, and he got to his feet.

Pain shot through his leg as soon as he stood, buckling his knees. He leaned against the couch, pulling himself up. The swelling was worse, locking up his ankle. The other foot was bruised, but he could lean on it without wanting to die. He sat down on the arm of the sofa, looking down at his feet, still blistered and red, starting to turn purple in places.

He re-wrapped the scarf that had worked itself loose in his sleep, biting down on his lip to keep from yelling. Dry blood caked the inside of his nose, making a sharp whistle as he inhaled. Murdoc wondered, as he straightened his legs, how much further he could walk before his feet simply gave up. He'd find out, he guessed.

He bowed his head, running a hand through his hair, greasy with sweat. Did Russel and 2D make it into this town too? Or were they somewhere else, miles away? Either one seemed a good possibly, and he disliked both. Either they ditched and were safe, or they were in the same situation and in a load of danger, just like him and Noodle. Murdoc leaned his feet back on their heels, staring at the ground. They couldn't just stay holed up in a strip club forever, though the thought was tempting. He cracked his knuckles nervously—they had to go back outside.

He turned back to Noodle, his eyes locking on her side. Her jacket had fallen aside, and he could see a red stain on her shirt underneath. It was torn open. His mouth went dry. He leaned forward, lifting up the coat.

“Murdoc,” a tiny voice piped up.

He jumped, yanking his hand back.

“Yeah kid?” he asked, his nerves on fire.

“We didn't die,” she offered up, trying to smile a little.

He coughed out a dry laugh, trying to look casual.

“Eh, not yet.”

But they both fell silent and any attempt at positivity died out.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, in a soft voice that was unlike him. “You uh, still tenderized on one side, braised on the other?”

Noodle shifted up, wincing.

“Not as bad.”

“Ah, yeah well… you let me know if it’s bothering you, yeah? Don’t need to give old Muds anymore grey hairs than I’ve already got, right?”

She pulled the jacket around her.

“That sound last night—” she started.

He turned away.

“Yeah, I can't get it out of my damn head either. And before you ask, no, I've got no fucking clue.”

“A storm siren?” Noodle suggested.

“Unless the Big Man Below was giving us a little weather warning, I doubt it.”

They held a heavy stare, until Murdoc slapped his hands down on his thighs.

“Well, I could use a morning drink to lighten the nerves.”

Noodle scrambled up after him, hobbling into the bar. He made a beeline for the shelves of liquor, looking through the paltry selection with a dirty glass in his grip, waiting to be filled.

She struggled onto a bar stool, still unbearably sore. It felt as if someone had beaten her with cinder blocks on one side, and burned the skin off the other. She itched and ached and wanted to run away and lie still at the same time.

Noodle slumped down on the stool sliding her hands into her jacket pockets, then sat up straight. She reached in and pulled out a handful of crumpled, folded pieces of paper from her pocket.

“I forgot I had these.” She unfolded one of them, smoothing it down on the counter. “A map.”

Noodle had the tendency to grab every free pamphlet from any rest stop, gas station, or corner store she visited. Ghost tours, hotels, psychic shops, hiking trails, demolition derbies, it didn’t matter what it was as long as it looked interesting. She’d grab them all. She also had the tendency to leave large quantities of them in Murdoc’s car, which got her more than yelling at.

Murdoc stopped wrenching the top off a green bottle and limped over. It was a brochure for the Lakeside Amusement Park. She scanned the paper, running her fingers along the roads, searching for anything that looked familiar. Her finger shot to a small red dot.

“Here, we're here.”

“Silent Hill. Well that's fucking right,” he muttered.

“We came in through here,” she said, moving her finger down a black line. “Past Paleville.”

“Can't go back there,” he said quickly, looking up at her with wide eyes.

She pursed her lips thoughtfully, reaching over the bar to grab up a black marker. She crossed out the highway they’d come from.

“There's only two ways out, then.” She slid a finger down the road they were already on. “If we go this way, we go through the edge of the town… and straight into mountains.”

Murdoc crunched his toes in his boots, fingers gripping his empty glass.

“Uh, my vote is for anything that doesn't involve hiking.”

“The only other way is backtracking and going around the other side of the lake, around the amusement park, straight through the main town, and back onto the Interstate Highway.”

Murdoc hung his head, rubbing his head rapidly.

“Well, looks like I'll lose a foot either way,” he growled. “No magic third option you're holding out on?”

She looked up at him from under her hair.

“How well can you swim?”

Not well, he had to admit, as if it were even an option. He stared down at the fork in the road, weighing the options and growing angrier by the second.

“Murdoc?”

“I'm thinking, dammit,” he snapped.

She pressed her lips tight together.

“Getting angry isn’t going to make us less lost,” she spat back.

He gritted his teeth.

“Alright, alright, alright. I think… uh...”

Murdoc wracked his still-swimming skull. Neither option was good: wander through a snaky mountain pass and hope to spit out somewhere better than here on the other end—if they made it at all with their broken and bruised bodies—or backtrack through a place they knew was dangerous and wander deeper into the town to avoid getting lost in the woods, but risk running into something worse. His feet wouldn't keep up through an upwards climb, especially if Noodle needed carrying again. But around the lake looked like a longer distance, and he didn't want to think of what would happen to two sitting ducks once they ran out of energy. He rolled the glass in his hand.

“I think we should take the long way,” Noodle piped up suddenly.

Murdoc's mismatched eyes shot up at her, his open mouth drawing closed. He honestly could not make a choice, and as much as he liked being right, he felt both fearful and relieved that Noodle saw a better option in the two.

“Why?” he prodded.

“Less places to hide in the mountain path, if we would need to.”

He stared at her—he hadn't even thought of that.

“Besides,” she said, looking away, “That’s probably where they would go, too. 2D’s scared of everything and Russel is practical.”

She folded up the paper, tucking it back into her pocket. They sat in silence looking at each other for a moment, and they could sense each others' fear.

“That creature—” she started.

“Yeah, I'd prefer not to know what it was, or where it came from, or whether it has friends. Or think about it at all, really.”

He looked over at her, eyeing the place where he’d seen the stain. Noodle shifted, pulling her jacket closer around her.

“What do you have on you?” she asked.

Murdoc jumped, patting himself down.

“Well let’s see, a phone that doesn’t fucking work, a pack of cigs that are all bent up now, a lighter, and a wallet so I can use money to buy nothing here. So… not fucking shit.”

She rummaged through her pockets. She’d left her bag in the car, with her wallet and her game system, not that they would have helped. So in total she had her phone and two more crumpled pamphlets.

“We need food and water, more than anything else,” she muttered, looking around.

“Well, we’ve got the water down,” he said, smirking and swirling the liquor around in the bottle.

“Actual water.”

“It has actual water,” he snorted.

She snapped at him, sitting up.

“You want to be drunk if that thing comes back?”

He stepped back, his mouth shut tight. He drummed his fingers against the bottle and set it down.

“There’s got to be a restaurant around here,” he said, limping toward the front door. “If there’s a girlie joint, there’s a place to stuff your face.”

He reached the door, his fingers wrapping around the handle, and just stood there, quiet. Noodle watched him, touching her side. He was too afraid to go outside. She slid from the stool, hobbling over to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder, looking up at him. His face was ghost-white, his eyes locked on the handle. She shook him until he looked at her.

“French Toast Bacon Waffle Extravaganza?”

He looked at her for a moment, and a laugh shuddered from him. He hadn’t thought about that in so long.

She must have been eleven or so when he took her to that breakfast joint. 2D and Russel were both out of town and he was stuck on babysitting duty. She’d come downstairs in her PJs and stumbled into the kitchen while he was making his coffee.

“What’s for breakfast?” she’d asked.

He looked at her, his mind blank.

“What?”

“Russ usually makes me breakfast,” she told him matter-of-factly.

“Well I’m not Russ, am I?” he shot back.

She just kept looking at him. He could tell he was T-minus 30 seconds to meltdown. Murdoc scratched the back of his neck and peeked into the fridge. Nothing. And the cabinets. And the counter. Not a thing he could conceivably make into something else without burning the whole place down.

So he took her to a diner and told her to get whatever she wanted. She was still in her PJs. She was in a phase and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Which he could appreciate when it wasn’t directed at him. So she decided she wasn’t changing and that was that. She also decided she wanted french toast and bacon and waffles. And Murdoc thought that was a brilliant idea and told the waitress to bring the same for him, with extra whipped cream.

And when it came to the table, they stacked it all on top of each other until it was an impossible to deal with tower of carbs and meat. Noodle practically emptied the syrup pitcher onto it. They called it “The French Toast Bacon Waffle Extravaganza”. And they thought it was the best thing ever. The waitress was not as thrilled.

Russel had given him a long talk about nutrition and other bullshit when he got back. To which Murdoc did not listen and every time he was out of town for the rest of the year, it was Extravaganza time.

He looked down at her now, older and outgrown from the sticky breakfast hellscape they’d created. He nodded.

“Yeah, let’s get two.”


	4. A Million Miles

Murdoc cracked the door open, peeking outside into the still morning. The street looked like a painting — everything motionless, everything silent. Not a sound. Not even the touch of a breeze. Just nothingness. Noodle pushed him forward an inch, peering out from under his arm.

“It’s clear,” she said in a whisper.

“Yeah, right now,” he muttered, leaning on the railing as he struggled down the stairs step by step.

It was so quiet that the  _ click-clack _ of his bootheels on the pavement was deafening. The fog glowed in the daylight, blocking out the sky, blocking out everything. Delicate, white snow fell light from above. He opened his palm, watching the particles fall and break apart in his hand. Not snow. Ash. He didn't notice before last night in his panic, but everything outside faintly smelled like fire. It wasn't cold, it wasn't hot. It was almost like he wasn't really there at all. Everything felt muffled and distant, but at the same time, the fear that they weren't alone was visceral and suffocating. He wiped his shirt off on his hands, keeping his eyes trained on the fog.

They walked slow through the empty streets, every building’s windows plastered up with newspaper and abandoned. Now, in the light of day, Murdoc wondered if they should have just kept going last night and put as much distance as they could have between them and anything having to do with this town. He knew, though, that he wouldn’t have made it far, even without the added weight on his back.

His swollen ankle pulsed with each step, and his head throbbed, slowing him down to a near crawl. It was unbearably frustrating when all he wanted to do was run. Noodle had passed him up easily and went flitting from one storefront to another to try and peek inside. She was limping too, not as bad as him, but he knew she wasn’t feeling any better than he did.

She waited for him every few steps, walking out ahead, then stopping to let Murdoc drag himself up beside her before continuing. Her legs felt better, other than the brush burn along one side. But it was the cut that made her hobble. She clutched her arm to the gash hard to keep it from opening back up, something that didn’t escape Murdoc’s notice. But he stayed silent and tried to keep up with her.

She stopped still at the window of a drug store and wiped down the grimy glass with the sleeve of her jacket, peeking in through the cracks between the faded papers. It was too dark to see inside.

"Well, it's not a restaurant, but they have to have something to eat or drink."

“Painkillers,” he muttered under his breath, glancing up at the sign that read  _ ‘prescription drugs filled here’ _ .

“Or a crutch,” she piped up, giving a long look at his leg.

The door was bent on its hinge. Something peeled it open from the top down like opening a can. It wouldn't swing open, and it was too tight of a squeeze. Murdoc grabbed the handle, pulling back as hard as he could with a loud grunt. Noodle tried to help and he swatted her away.

The door shrieked open a few inches more, just enough for Noodle to grab hold of the frame and slip inside.

He tried to pull himself over the gap, nearly going limp at the pain of twisting his spine to try and wriggle through. He backed off, panting, shaking his head.

"It's okay, I'll be fine," Noodle called back with more confidence than she felt.

He pressed himself up close to the door, poking his head through to watch her like a hawk.

"Hey! Hey!"

He waved his arm through the opening, calling her back.

"Behind the counter, look for pills like 2D's. Vicodin or Oxy, alright?" He made a tiny diamond with his fingertips. "Or just bring me what looks familiar. Ah, but don't take any till I do. If I die, you'll know you don't want 'em, eh-hahaha."

She clicked her tongue, turning around.

"Hello? Are you listening?"

"Yes," she said, slipping away.

He squeezed his head through, grimacing.

"I got a medical degree, y'know!" he called in a loud whisper.

The inside was a disaster. The shelves were all knocked around, and what little things that were left scattered across the floor were coated with a thick layer of ash. Noodle turned over little boxes and bottles with her foot, looking for anything that could be useful. But it looked as if someone had already come and grabbed up what they could.

She managed to find an unopened bottle of water and a very stale bag of chips that she stuffed into her jacket pockets. But no bandages, no ointment, not even a crutch or a cane. Noodle picked through bottles of eyewash, hand cream, and cold meds.

“There's not much here unless you have a bad case of dry eye.”

She stopped, picking up a Maglite flashlight still in its package. She ripped it open, browsing the batteries still left on the turnstile under she found the right ones. It still worked, shooting a bright beam up to the ceiling.

Murdoc strained to see inside, watching her disappear around the corner, shining the light onto the floor as she went.

Noodle stopped dead, looking down at her shoes. A long, wide, dark trail of blackened blood was streaked across the floor, and into the back room. She looked down at the bottom of her shoe, stained red. She kicked at the floor, trying to scrape it off. Nerves prickled up her spine.

She hoisted herself over the counter, landing quietly on the other side. There were still some bottles left on the shelves, and some loose pills scattered around on the floor. She scanned each one, squinting to read the tiny type. All the bottles looked the same and none looked familiar. She wished Murdoc had been able to slide through. He knew his drugs, unfortunately, less from his education and more from previous self-employment.

Murdoc perked up as she reappeared at the door, handing-off a palmful of medications. He inspected each one, stuffing a bottle into his pocket.

“Bandages? Alcohol?”

“I found a flashlight.”

He didn’t say anything, his eyes flicking to her side.

A loud bang made her leap against the shelves, pressing close. She stood rooted to the spot, listening.

"There's something in here," she said in a low voice.

Murdoc froze, his ears perking. He struggled to lift himself up, staring into the darkness. He couldn't see anything, but he could hear something.

Noodle crouched down low, bracing against the shelves. She held her breath and crept on hands and knees to peek around the corner. Something was breathing, heavy and labored, from behind the door on the far side of the room. It groaned, like metal being bent, a low, guttural sound.

Murdoc inched himself back out. Every twist of his spine was agony. He grit his teeth hard not to make a sound.

"Noodle," he whispered. "Noods, come on."

Noodle took slow, careful steps backward, not taking her eyes off the door that began to swing open a crack. She tentatively turned the light back on. Something was slithering out. Something long and wet. She made a break for the doorway, grasping onto Murdoc's arms as he dragged her out back onto the street. They turned to run as fast as they could down the block and off the main road, their chests bursting with panicked breaths and thunderous heartbeats, all thoughts of food and water and pain driven from their minds.

Neither of them dared to say anything, the pair of them limping their way down the road back the way they’d come the night before. It didn’t feel any safer now than it did then. Fog surrounded them on all sides, a suffocating, thick haze that made everything look the same. The highway split off, a narrower road that led down the slope of a hill that snaked into the woods. Noodle clutched the map in her hands and made a little  _ ‘x’ _ where they were with the marker from the bar.

“Thought you said we weren't taking the mountain road.”

She took a sparing sip from the bottle, passing it over to him.

“We're not. It’s forest in every direction. This way goes around the lake and goes through what looks like the main town.”

“Christ… well, how far?”

She tucked the marker back into her pocket.

“Telling you won’t make you feel any better.”

Murdoc rubbed his face, crusty blood still peeling away from his nose. Every minute in this place was a chain reaction of horror and disappointment.

He pulled the bottle of pills out, popping the top to dump a few out into his hand. He glanced up at Noodle, then poured all but one of them back in. He split the pill with his long nail, swallowing a half and holding his palm out to her with the other.

"No," she said, her hand itching to go to her side. "I want to keep a clear head."

He made a grunting sound, but didn't push it and closed up the bottle.

She fished the bag of chips out of her jacket, shaking it.

“Well, at least we found some water, and this.”

Noodle pulled hard until it popped open. A nest of spiders came bursting out, hundreds of tiny black insects spilling out onto the concrete. She dropped the bag with a shriek, both of them stumbling back as the spiders swarmed on the road.

“Augh, that’s all yours, Noods. I’m uh… I’m going on a diet, starting right this minute.”

Her skin tingled with the ghost of a million tiny legs. She wiped her hands off on her jacket frantically, taking huge steps back. Her hand flew to her side. The quick movement sent a harsh jab of pain through her.

Murdoc’s eyes focused on her, his lips tense in a tight line. He motioned her toward him.

“Alright, enough pussyfooting around. Show me.”

Noodle clenched her arm down against her side.

“It’s a bruise. It just hurts.”

“Uh-huh.”

He came right up, staring down at her. Noodle tensed, then let her arm go slack, looking away as she pulled her jacket open to reveal the bloody mess underneath. Murdoc tried not to let his fear show, but she could read the look on his face out of the corner of her eye.

He crouched down, peeling the bloodstained tear in her shirt from her skin. There was a long gouge, damp and red, that ran down her side, haphazardly closed up with bandages that were peeling off one by one. Murdoc ran through his options in a panic, none of them good. He had a lighter in his pocket he could burn it closed with, but he didn’t know if he could bring himself to do that to her. It wasn’t clean enough to sew up, even if he had something to do it with.

The peeling bandages came right off when he tugged on them, the adhesive too damp to stick. She set her jaw hard, tensing against the pain that flared when his fingers lightly brushed the tender skin.

“Alright,” he said in a low voice. “You’re not walking anymore.”

“What?” She shook her head, pulling her jacket back over the cut. “No, no we have to keep going. We have to find 2D and Russel.”

“We have to get you somewhere to fix that or I’ll be looking for somewhere to bury you.”

That stopped her cold. She glanced away.

“So, hop on,” he urged.

She backed away, grunting.

“No, that’ll just slow us down. You can barely walk on your own!”

"Would you keep your fucking voice down?" he hissed.

“You  _ can’t _ carry me!”

He shifted his weight, leaning hard onto his better leg.

“I certainly can. You weigh, what, five kilos? Besides, if I take enough of the pills I won't feel a thing!”

Noodle grit her teeth.

"Stop acting like you're fine when you're not!"

He snorted a laugh.

"You're fucking kidding, right?"

Her face flushed and she turned away quickly, pulling her hand away from her side.

"I took care of myself when I left. I lived for two years on my own. I was  _ eleven _ . And where were you then? In prison. So, I don’t need you to tell me what’s best. You're not in charge of me.”

His blood boiled.

“I am  _ absolutely _ in charge of you. In fact, it was  _ my  _ name written on the package you came in.”

“That doesn't give you authority. Don’t talk to me like you’re my father,” she spat.

He puffed up, his lip curling back in a sneer.

"Your  _ father _ ?" he snorted. "Look, if you're suffering under the impression that I think you're my kid, let me clear that up for you right now: I'm no one's fuckin' dad, alright? You're looking for a father figure to let out all your teenage fury? Try Russ if you want someone to throw the rulebook at you. Or 'D, if you like the fun, deadbeat type.”

He jabbed his long finger toward her.

“I never wanted to get _any _kids involved in my life. I didn't _ask_ for you to show up. So don't go projecting that kind of parental shit onto me, got it?!"

A long, low groan leaked from the fog, turning the both of them to stone. He whipped around so fast he nearly rolled his ankle, staggering on his weak leg. Something cut through the grey light of the fog, a lumbering shadow that moved just out of view. Whatever it was, it was big.

Inch by inch from the dense haze it crept, slinking into form. It crawled like a slug, slow and wriggling along the ground. Eight long arms pulled it across the pavement, leaving a slick, dark, wet trail in its path. The same sticky trail from the Pharmacy. Noodle’s breath caught hard in her chest. It had followed them all this way, stalking slowly behind.

She jumped out of her skin as Murdoc's hand vice-gripped her wrist. He pulled her along, taking ginger, slow steps backward, careful not to let his heels clack against the pavement as they slunk quietly off to the side of the road.

The stench that billowed off the creature was unbearable, an overwhelming, noxious cloud of decay and rot that made sour bile sting the back of Murdoc's throat. Noodle clapped her hands to her face, trying desperately not to breathe.

It pushed itself up on its front hands. Where a face should have been was a fleshed-over knob with a slit for a mouth that ran down, down, and opened into a maw of teeth that split its ribcage from end to end. A long, sticky tongue fell out, running over the road where they'd been standing. It heaved itself forward, tongue lolling out of its sopping mouth towards them.

Murdoc froze up, rooted to the spot. It was huge, and as it grew agonizingly closer he found himself unable to breathe. He fought back coughs that welled up in his throat, scrambling back in the ditch along the roadside.

Noodle tugged at his jacket, motioning for him to follow her into the treeline. Step by step they inched back, carefully stepping over branches and twigs as the creature sloughed on closer, its tongue a long, dripping feeler that crept along their footsteps. She pulled him back, through the trees, through the brush, down a slope that emptied out onto a path. He managed a quick glance over his shoulder, terrified to look away from the slug that slunk moaning through the pines.

A marina.

Noodle crept along the dock, the wood squeaking with the gentle waves of the lake that lapped against the boats still moored on the water. His heart banged in his throat. This was a dead end.

She let go of his sleeve, getting down onto her knees at the end of the dock and pressed a finger to her lips.

The creature grasped the sides of the dock with its warped hands, pulling itself closer. She grasped onto the last boat cleat on the pier, silently dipping her feet into the water. Her hands tensed around the metal. It was freezing. She lowered herself into the dark water, quietly sinking down to her neck.

Murdoc stole a glance back at the tongue and scrambled to follow, his teeth clenching tight as the icy lake enveloped him. It took every ounce of control to keep himself still and quiet. His body quaked. The pressure of the cold water closing around him suffocated him, panicked him. He gripped onto the edge of the dock, unable to let his fingers go. He could feel the thing growing closer. He could smell it. It was only feet away.

Noodle reached up, prying his hands off the cleat. She gripped onto the shoulders of his jacket, and with a huge gasp of air, pulled the both of them under the water into the darkness of the lake.

The tongue slid around the edges of the dock, every hand grasping onto the wood slats hard. It was searching, searching, the very tip of its long feeler grazing the surface of the murky water.

Noodle shimmied down along the bracing holding the dock up, one hand still grasped tight onto Murdoc's jacket, pulling him under with her even as he struggled. He was never an incredibly great swimmer, and the length he could hold his breath was short. His lungs begged for air, his body seeking the surface on instinct. The shock of the cold forced the air from his lungs. She held on tighter, her legs wrapped around the pole, anchoring him in the suffocating dark.

She counted the seconds in her head as Murdoc fought her. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds. Forty. Fifty.

He thrashed, a burst of bubbles escaping his open mouth, hands wringing around her wrist to free himself. She clenched her eyes tight, using every ounce of will to keep him under.

Sixty.

She pushed off the dock and sent them both gasping to the surface, nearly banging their heads off the bottom. Murdoc coughed up lungfuls of water as he struggled to keep himself afloat. She grabbed him by the front of the shirt, desperately trying to get him to stop. He held in his coughs, his chest seizing as they both listened closely to the walkway above. Nothing.

Noodle grabbed the edge, pulling herself up just enough to see the creature dragging its way back up the way they'd come, its tongue running along the wet trail it had left behind.

She lowered herself with a long exhale, letting herself float as Murdoc pounded his chest.

"I know… you're angry… but… if you're going to kill me… I'd prefer… a quicker way… than drowning…"

She didn't answer. Her heart beat so hard in her chest that she thought it would give out. The stench of the creature plugged her nose. That had been too close.

Noodle hoisted herself up onto the dock with a loud grunt, throwing herself onto her back. Her hand shot to her side, waves of pain shooting through her ribs. Murdoc struggled to pull himself up behind her, his wet leather jacket and his jeans weighing him down like a second body.

"You okay?" he huffed.

"Fine."

She pulled a sopping wet lump from her pocket, dumping it out onto the dock. Murdoc snorted a laugh that stung his lungs.

"Oh, good, the map," he sighed.

Noodle hung her head, her hair dripping onto the wood. It felt like the town was keeping them there, like a spider under a glass, and no matter how much they climbed, there was no way out.

Murdoc grunted, making her look up as he climbed into a rickety-looking old rowboat, his wet heels slipping against the wood. He collapsed into it, a long groan escaping him as the pressure eased off his aching feet. He motioned listlessly for her to get in.

"Time to... give my arms a turn… to get fucked up…"

She stared out across the surface of the lake. The fog was like a brick wall, shrouding everything in a grey, un-pierceable veil.

"If we go out in that, we might end up going in circles. I have no idea where we'll end up."

He sat up on his hands, brushing the wet hair out of his face.

"Eh, I… like that idea better than getting eaten."

He wrenched himself free of the soaked jacket and let it fall to the belly of the boat with a heavy slap. Water poured out of each boot as he pulled his feet out. He didn't even want to look at them, putting his shoes right back on as they stung his skin.

The bottle of pills was still safe in his pocket, the seal strong enough to keep that water out. He fished out the other half he’d cut, swallowing it. It stuck hard in his throat, sliding down slow. It wouldn’t be too long until his body gave out completely. But he had no choice but to keep moving. Standing still was too dangerous.

The boat rocked heavily to one side as Noodle got in, sitting across from him. He looked at her warily.

"Oh, you're letting  _ me _ make a decision?"

"Well, at least if it's the wrong decision it'll be your fault," she said with the smallest hint of a smile.

He scoffed, situating himself.

"Oh, like I would  _ ever _ make the wrong decision. Shame on you. All my life choices have led me to this moment. So as you can see, I've got good intuition."

He grasped the oars, taking long, deep breaths. His chest burned and stung, every inch of him beaten and wrung of every ounce of energy. Just moving was a horrifying ordeal. His head shot up as Noodle sat down beside him and took one of the oars from him.

Pushing against the current in tandem, they guided the little rowboat into the thick haze and left the dock far out of sight.


	5. Breeze in Monochrome Night

Murdoc eventually took both the oars, snapping at Noodle that she was going to tear herself open again, and rowed into the muggy fog until he thought his arms would twist out of their sockets. Every muscle in his body burned. And there was nothing in every direction.

She told him to just stay straight, that if he did, they would eventually hit the shore on the opposite side near the town. At least, as far as she remembered.

Minutes slipped by into hours as he rowed and stopped to rest. Each time he put the oars down it became harder to pick them up, until finally he let go and leaned back on his elbows, the boat drifting along in the gentle tide.

"We should have seen the shore by now," she said in a quiet voice.

"Yeah, I know that."

"Are you sure we've been staying straight?"

He lifted himself up.

"I've been paddling this fucking dingy in the same direction for hours. My arms are about to pop off like a goddamn Barbie doll. Yeah, I'm sure."

It was difficult to feel if they were even moving. It was like walking in the dark. Everything glowed grey all around them. No land, not even a fish, or a stick floating by. Just mist, and the hypnotic swell of tiny waves. She'd gotten so accustomed to nothingness that it took her a long moment to register that she was seeing something materializing out of the fog.

"The shore," she said, lurching the boat as she stood.

Murdoc twisted around to look behind him.

Trees poked out of the greyness, then a rocky edge of land. His heart rose into his throat, then crashed into his stomach.

"It's an island."

It was tiny, small enough that Murdoc circled it easily. All that stood on the rocky land was a little, yellow-brick church with a tall steeple that rose up above the trees, and a short dock that stuck out like a finger into the lake.

The boat bobbed along as he pulled the oars back in, leaning his arms against his lap.

"Creepy little church. Seems safe," he muttered.

“Look,” she said, pointing up towards a line of pine trees beside the dock.

In a squat little stump, there was a hatchet buried into the wood. They looked at each other, then back to the ax.

"Yeah, I want that," he mumbled.

They floated closer and closer until they drifted right up beside the dock. Noodle grasped onto the metal tie at the end, keeping the boat anchored as he jumped off.

"Hurry up," she muttered. "I don't like this."

"Oh, really? You don't like this haunted little island? I think it'd be lovely to get a lake house here."

"馬鹿..." she muttered to herself.

"Hey, hey! I know an insult when I hear one. ほ... ほっとい... て," he said haltingly. '_ Leave me alone' _was one of the first phrases he'd picked up from her years ago.

"Your accent is still bad!" she called.

His legs were weak and stiff from sitting in the boat, and he felt every step keenly as he staggered up to the stump. It took a harsh tug to rip the ax free, sending him stumbling back. It wasn't big and the blade was rusted, but it was heavy and sharp enough to make a dangerous swing.

Noodle sat up straight, the side of the boat thudding into the dock.

"Murdoc… there's a woman," she said quietly.

He froze.

"What?"

She pointed at the dirt path behind him that lead up to the chapel. A figure stood there, with silvery hair, her shapeless dress billowing in the wind that cut over the water. He clamored back into the boat, gripping the hatchet tight in his hand. He grabbed up the oars and moved to push them from the dock, but stopped.

He stared back up at the woman, wrestling with himself.

"H-hey!" he called.

"What are you doing?" Noodle snapped.

"Hey! We need a doctor!"

"Stop," she hissed. "I'll be fine!"

The woman drew closer, silently gliding down the path with bare feet, her hands folded demurely in front of her.

"I'm sorry," she said in a breathy, low voice. "It's only me here. I cannot help you."

He glanced from the woman to Noodle, gripping the oar.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, peering past her to the plain-looking brick church that poked through the crest of the trees. "Little late for mass."

"My name is Claudia. I tend to the temple."

"Fantastic," he muttered. "Can you tell us which way to the shore?"

Her eyes unnerved him. He could feel her staring straight into his soul.

"I have seen you. In a vision."

He scoffed, his spine going straight.

"Ah, can't say you're the first one to tell me that. I've got a well-known face. You, uh, get the radio out here? CDs? ...Cassettes?"

"Let me see you, closer."

Murdoc sat still, sweat beading at the base of his neck. He shifted, rocking the boat sharply in the tide as he bent forward, rigid and wary. She crouched down and leaned over to take his jaw in her hands. Her skin was ice.

Claudia's nails grazed his cheeks, her cold eyes wandering over his face.

"Yes… I can see… Xuchilbara grows close through you. Your strength, your passion… Your darkness… an ideal gateway for the Red God."

He jerked his head back, lip curling in a sneer. He grabbed both oars, retreating to the center of the boat.

She stared, unblinking, her gaze drifting from him to Noodle.

"You're hurt."

Noodle didn't respond, keeping still.

"Let me see."

She glanced from Murdoc back to her, then peeled back her jacket, lifting her shirt to expose the gash. Claudia's expression didn't change as she stared down at her.

"Girl… let us make a trade. Valtiel does not call us to collect you. Give this man to me, and I will ensure your safe return to the outside. You, and both of your other friends."

Murdoc snapped around to stare at Noodle, his eyes wide, fear painted on his face. She watched Claudia closely, ignoring him.

"Where are they?"

"In the town, alive. For the moment."

"How do you know that?"

"The Gods whisper many things to me. I can sense them. One is safe. The other, well… the town has not been kind to him." She stood back up. "I offer you your freedom. You should give him up willingly. Either way, he will come to us. Spare yourself the suffering. You will not survive otherwise. Your wound will become corrupted and you will die."

Noodle stared into the woman's cold eyes, silent. Murdoc dug the oars into the water, heaving with all his strength to push the boat from the dock.

"Fucking crazy bint," he spat. "Thanks for nothing."

Claudia didn't move to stop them, standing still on the edge of the lake.

"It matters not. Run or give in, you will come to us regardless. The Gods have made me patient. And for Paradise I will happily wait. I will see you again soon."

"Fat chance," he snarled, pushing away his pain in the waves of fear that pulsed through him.

Noodle watched her until she vanished into the fog, along with the trees and the church and the island. They drifted in the silent mist, both shaken from what they'd heard.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Murdoc found new strength in his fear and drove himself to keep rowing though his body broke with each stroke of the oars as they cut hard through the water.

"What's Xuchilbara?" she said all of a sudden, her voice startling him.

"What?"

"That's what she said. That Xuchilbara was inside you."

He scoffed.

"I'm well aware of when people are inside me." He pulled a grimace, regretting the joke. "She was just a crazy old religious woman. They like to say cryptic shit."

"She didn't look that much older than you."

"Watch it," he spat.

A heavy silence weighed on the both of them.

"How did she know about 2D and Russel?"

He glanced at the water from over his shoulder, not looking at her.

"We're clearly lost, maybe she took a lucky guess that we’re not alone."

He tensed. Even he didn't believe that.

"Maybe she saw them."

"Maybe," he grunted noncommittally.

He didn't say anything else, didn't look at her. She fell quiet, and the only sound on the lake was the splashing of the oars and the sucking of the keel streaming along the surface of the water.

Daylight leaked from the eerie glow of the fog, blue darkness closing in around them as Murdoc's strength waned into nothing with each stroke. He hung his head, pulling the oars up into the boat with a heavy clatter.

It was a mistake to get out onto the water.

Every muscle gave out as he collapsed back, his eyes slipping closed. Noodle watched him from the other end, curled up. There was nothing to do, nowhere to go. They were stranded and drained of every drop of vitality, and somehow, they were even worse off than they had been on dry land. Noodle huddled closer into herself, her eyelids growing heavy and her mind turning thick with exhaustion.

Murdoc leaned up on his elbows, staring off into the distance.

“What the fuck is that?”

Noodle turned. There was something floating in the distance. She squinted hard as it passed along. A steamboat, its windows glowing gold with light, drifted silently over the water where the horizon met the fog. They watched it drift like air over the lake noiselessly.

“Please tell me you see that,” he muttered.

“Yeah…”

It sailed into the mist until its glow grew dim, a lantern in the night, and sputtered out like a candle flame into darkness.

Murdoc collapsed onto his back, covering his face.

“I… fucking hate this place.”


	6. Fermata in Mystic Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: child abuse, gaslighting
> 
> I'll put a general synopsis at the beginning of the next chapter for those who would prefer to skip this one.

The boat slamming up against a concrete wall jerked the both of them violently awake. They shot up, nearly capsizing the boat in a panic.

"The shore," Noodle said, scrambling to gain her balance.

Murdoc staggered in the belly of the boat, wincing at the new flashes of pain that surged through him as he stood. He grabbed at the top of the retaining wall, holding the boat fast to the edge of the land.

"Get up."

Noodle hoisted herself up, grunting as she climbed up on top of the wall.

"What about the boat?"

He glanced around. There was nowhere to tether it up. The retaining wall stretched on in both directions along the shore as far as he could see.

"I've had enough of this pleasure cruise anyway," he muttered.

He handed off the hatchet to her and pulled himself up, groaning as his spine twisted. It took all his effort to clamor up, his heels scraping against the wet concrete as he struggled. Noodle looped her arms under his and he wriggled away, nearly falling into the water as the boat drifted away from the wall.

"Don't," he growled.

She set her jaw hard, pulling back. He tried again, his eyes squeezed tight as he lifted himself up onto the top alongside her, rolling onto his back and taking huge breaths as he rode out the waves of pain. They sat and watched the current slowly suck the boat back out into the lake, bobbing along empty like a ghost.

"Where are we?" he grunted.

"I'm not sure. Hopefully on the other side."

The possibility that they'd drifted even further away from their destination, or worse, back where they started, lurked in the back of her mind.

They were on a muddy slope, where a walkway lined the edge of the coast. A winding set of rusty metal stairs climbed up to the top.

"Oh good," he muttered. "I was hoping to get my steps in today. I was under my target for yesterday."

Noodle ignored him, pressing her elbow into her bad side, the ax gripped in her other hand. She started up, her pace too quick for him as he lagged behind. The steps creaked underfoot, groaning uncomfortably as if at any moment they'd give way.

Noodle reached the top, her head on a swivel, desperately trying to find any clue as to where they were. Murdoc hunched over, popping open the bottle of pills to take one, his eyes closing as he leaned off his bad leg for a minute.

"We're on the other side," she called down excitedly.

He clung to the railing, rubbing his knee.

"How do you know?"

"I see a Ferris Wheel."

The cresting top of the ride loomed over the pines. She remembered the map showing an amusement park on the northern side of the lake. Somehow, though dumb luck alone, they had floated close to where they needed to be.

The road in front of her ran along the edge of the forest, and on the side there was a greying sign that read _ "Central Silent Hill - 2 Miles" _.

"We need to go right, into the town."

He leaned down when he finally reached the top, slipping the hatchet out of her hand.

"I'll take that, thanks."

She pulled a face, watching him as he passed. 

"You think I can't use it?"

"I know you can," he snorted, limping along. "You're much more dangerous than me, I'll need it more than you."

She couldn't tell if he was making fun of her or not, and he didn't care to explain further as he stalked ahead, looking every bit a killer with the ax leaning over his shoulder. But they both knew, quietly to themselves, who the real killer of the pair was.

Noodle came up along beside him, slowing down so they walked side-by-side down the road.

The road followed the coastline, twisting along until they could make out the town along the horizon. Noodle doubled her pace, overwhelmed with eagerness. Murdoc clicked his tongue.

"Oh, yeah, just leave me behind," he called.

"I can still see you."

She hurried on, leaving Murdoc to try and catch up. Abandoned cars dotted the road, their doors and hoods thrown open, coated in ash. A graveyard of metal. Murdoc glanced at each one as he went by, peering in to see if any still had the keys in the ignition. He would've liked to stop to see if there was anything worth taking, but Noodle was so focused that she paid no attention and made her way through the wrecks deftly. He hobbled along behind.

"Alright, slow down."

"What?"

"I said―!"

He heard it before he saw it, a stomach-turning gurgle from under the car to his right as something slipped out fast.

He reeled back, slamming into a sedan as the creature came lurching out. The same thing from the crash, that attacked Noodle, just as horrific and sickening.

It pushed itself up on its legs, arching backward to work up a stream of acrid vomit that burst from it. Murdoc scrambled away, gripping the ax hard.

Cold sweat streamed down his back as the creature staggered forward, its upper half twisting and writhing, as if it were trying to burst out of the prison of flesh it was wrapped in.

"Its tongue!" Noodle shouted, running back to him as fast as she could.

Murdoc just barely missed it lashing out from a slit of a mouth, dripping with bile. It staggered, vomit oozing from the orifice as the tongue slid back in.

Noodle came up behind it and the creature spun to face her.

Murdoc trembled, raising the ax up to sink it into the thing's back. A deafening screech ripped from it as it crumpled in on itself, writhing on the ground.

He ripped the ax back to bring it down again, and stumbled back as another creature slithered out from under the car between his legs.

"Fuck," he spat, the hatchet slipping from his hand.

It threw its weight against him and struck him against the car, pinning him hard onto the hood. He brought his hands up as it fell on him, his eyes wrenching closed. The slit of its mouth opened, the tip of its tongue slipping out. Vomit bubbled down onto his shoulder, eating through the leather of his jacket.

The blade of the hatchet pierced into the back of its skull. Black bile slopped out onto him, soaking him in blood. He kicked the creature backward, and with every ounce of strength, Noodle buried the hatchet deep into the thing's skull. It sank to the ground, wriggling on the ground in a chittering heap.

"Jesus Christ," he stammered, crawling backward up onto the hood, wiping the blood from his face.

Noodle hacked relentlessly into the other creature's head until it finally went limp against the pavement and silence once again took hold, both of them lying dead on the ground.

Murdoc struggled for breath, wrenching off his jacket and tossing it away as the vomit ate a large hole straight through it. She pulled the ax back and let it dangle listlessly in her hand. She brushed the hair out of her eyes, her breath shaky. She looked far away, staring down at the bodies that laid at her feet with flat, unblinking eyes.

"Are they… really dead?" he gasped.

She shook herself and nodded, kicking at the corpses.

"As dead as they can be, I think," she muttered.

He collapsed onto his back, sprawled out on the hood, huffing.

"Augh… I swear to Satan. If we make it out of this… I'm never going outside again. I'll just live in my trailer till I die, drinking whiskey and watching porn." He waved his hand at her. "Forget you heard that last part."

"You could buy that lake house on the creepy island."

"Oh, good to know you remember everything I say," he muttered.

He struggled to his feet, trying his best to look like he wasn't about to vomit when he looked down at the bodies split open on the ground.

Noodle's hands shook. She reached down to her side. Swinging the hatchet ripped her wound open wider and she could feel something dripping.

Her palm was red when she pulled it away.

Murdoc grunted, slipping the ax from her hand and wiping it off on his jacket.

"Genuine leather," he muttered. "A real shame. But it's no good with a bloody hole in it, no pun intended."

He tucked the hatchet into the front of his belt and stopped in front of her.

"So, we can stand here all day arguing, or we can do this the easy way and you can just hop on now."

She panted, blinking through sweat that ran down her face.

"...Alright," she said, giving in.

He crouched down, letting her clamor up and wrap around his neck, his arms looped under her legs. The extra weight sent bolts of pain through him that he pushed away with clenched teeth. He took a long breath, inching his way down the road with Noodle thrown over his back.

  
  


The edge of the town came up to meet them, this one much larger than the one across the lake. Noodle's heart leapt. The old woman, Claudia, said Russel and 2D were here. If she wasn't out of her mind, then they were finally close.

"Where should we start looking first?" she mumbled, glancing up at the street signs. "Maybe we should look for city hall, or a visitor center and get a new map."

"We're going to the hospital," he said quickly.

"What?"

She wriggled on his back, leaning so sharply it almost made him lose his balance.

"Are we not going to look for them?"

He didn't stop his limping march towards the building that read _ "Alchemilla Hospital" _ along the side.

"Look, we get you patched up, _ then _ we can go looking for the damsels in distress. The way you are now, you'll get the both of us killed."

Noodle let go of his shoulders, trying to pull her legs back.

"Put me down."

He yelped as the struggling twisted his spine.

"Christ, stop!"

He let go of her legs, rubbing his locked-up wrists. She scrambled off and ran up in front of him, shoving his chest.

"Every minute we spend on me is a minute that we're not looking for them."

"We don't even know if they're here," he snapped. "They could be anywhere! Fuck, they could be back where we started. They could be miles away! They could be…"

"They could be what?!"

"Dead, alright?! We're both thinking it!"

She shoved him again.

"Stop it!"

"You always hated them!"

Murdoc stopped stiff, his mouth twisting up.

"You always hated them… So is this just an opportunity to get rid of them to you?"

"No!" he yelled. "I don't hate them!"

"That's a lie! You say it all the time. You treat them like shit and you put them down. Admit it!"

He struggled with himself, stuttering.

"I don't want them _ dead _ ! I don't know what the fuck happened to them! I don't know if they're alive or dead, but I know _ you're _ alive right here in front of me and I'd like to keep you that way!" He breathed heavy, leaning back on his better leg. "And you sure as shit know _ both _ of them would do the same thing."

She grew quiet. That was the truth. If it were Russel or 2D instead of him, they would still make the same argument. Murdoc, in his cold, selfish practically, was making the same decision they would have made out of kindness and selflessness. Two routes to the same outcome.

She felt small. She pressed her fingers along her side, looking down.

"Alright," she finally admitted.

He moved past her, sneering.

"The less you fight me, the faster it'll go. So stop acting like I'm being a bastard about it. I know I usually am, but I'm not right now."

She trailed along behind him, taking half-steps towards the hospital. She mulled a thought over in her mind, that maybe they could be there as well if one of them was hurt. That maybe it wasn't a waste of time to check. She ran right into Murdoc's back when he stopped cold.

There was a man standing on the stairs, turned away from them.

Murdoc clenched his fists tight, slipping the ax out of his belt to grip it tight in his hand. Another thing in the way. A person, this time, but no less inconvenient than anything else.

"Hey!" he called out, his nerves frayed and his temper short. "Hey, you! You seen a big, bald guy or a tall, scrawny kid with blue hair around here?"

Noodle glared at him, giving him another rough push.

"Knock it off," he spat at her. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"

The man turned, staring straight at them.

Murdoc went white, the hatchet clattering to the ground. Noodle staggered back, looking from him to the stranger.

"What… the fuck…"

The figure of the man became sharper as he stepped toward them. He was tall, olive-tan, with long black hair that reached his chest, and he was dressed well. Too well. As if he was from the wrong time. His dark pants matched his collared shirt, buttoned over with a silk vest that shone with a slick finish. Silver cufflinks glinted on his sleeves in the light as he opened his arms wide.

“Murdoc. It’s so good to see you.”

Noodle spun around to look at him, shock pulsing through her.

"You know him?"

Murdoc's pupils were pinpoints, his mouth hanging open.

"That's... not possible…"

He shook his head, shivering all over. Noodle turned on the man, her voice loud and defensive.

“Who are you?”

He looked down at her.

“Black hair… just like us. You had a daughter and you never told me? Though, I'm happy to see at least one of you carry on the Niccals name.”

The man took a long step towards her with his hand outstretched, his dark eyes cold and glassy. Murdoc grabbed her by the arm and yanked her behind him.

"Don’t touch her," he growled. “Don’t talk to her, don’t look at her.”

His lips curled back in a cruel-looking smile, showing off jagged yellow teeth.

“Is that any way to greet me after all these years?” he purred in a low voice.

The heels of his dress shoes clacked against the pavement. Every step he took toward them made Murdoc take one back, pushing her along.

“You don’t call, you don’t write… I was so worried about you.”

Murdoc shook his head, his eyes going wet.

“This isn’t real. You’re not real.”

The man cocked his head to one side.

“Son,” he said sweetly. “If this wasn’t real, then how would I know what happened the last time we saw each other?”

_ Son_. Noodle clutched onto the back of his shirt.

“Murdoc… is that your father?”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, there’s no way. There’s no way he could be here. He's in Trent, rotting where he belongs!”

His father sighed a long breath of disappointment, lowering his head.

“You tried to kill me, son. Do you remember?” He glanced up, his voice deep and smooth as he spoke. “You set the house on fire.”

“You were supposed to be inside,” Murdoc hissed, tears running hot down his cheeks. “My mistake, not checking first.”

Noodle could feel him trembling. His father clicked his tongue.

“That hurts. You and Hannibal… were always so… difficult to understand. Always lashing out. You never knew how much I loved the both of you.”

“Loved us so much that you beat the shit out of us? That you did this?!” He jabbed a finger at his pink eye. “That’s a permanent reminder of how much you loved me!”

The man let out a long, slow exhale through his nose.

“You were always one for the dramatic. You did that to yourself, don’t you remember?

Murdoc let out a strange, strangled laugh.

“I did it to_ myself _?”

“You don’t remember? You had an accident when you were little. You splashed a chemical into your eye.”

“You did that to me. You threw cleaner fluid in my face when I called the cops after you beat Hannibal till his jaw cracked.” He was vibrating with anger and choked-back sobs. "You held me down and poured it in my face and grabbed my hands so I couldn't rub it off! I still can't see right, you fucker!"

His father shook his head sadly.

“Why would you think that? Is that what you’ve been telling yourself all these years? That I hated you so much I’d hurt you like that?”

He spread his arms wide, slinking closer and closer until he brought them around Murdoc and pulled him into a soft embrace. His long fingernails stroked his hair.

“It’s okay, son. I forgive you.”

Murdoc couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. His father stared into Noodle’s eyes, boring holes into her skull with a lifeless gaze that sent chills shuddering through her. She grabbed Murdoc’s hand, pulling on him. He didn’t react, just stood shaking and staring straight ahead.

“You're a liar…” he muttered. “I didn’t make it up…”

“You know that’s why Hannibal left, don’t you? You told stories. You were destructive. He had to leave for his own safety.”

“No,” he muttered. “No.”

“That’s why your mother―”

“No!”

He shoved the man off, stumbling backward into Noodle, his face slick with sweat. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him so shaken, so viscerally upset.

“Don’t you fucking _ dare _ try to put that on me!”

His father’s smile disappeared, a long grimace cutting his face.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but you need to accept the truth.”

“Whose truth?” he yelled, choking up. “Yours?! The one you tell everyone because it makes it easier for you to sleep at night?!”

“Murdoc, you’re lying to yourself.”

“I don’t _ know _ what happened!”

Murdoc snapped into silence, staring at him. Suddenly he lunged forward, grasping his father by the lapels of his vest and dragging him in close, craning his neck to look up at him.

“Was it you?” he screamed, shaking the man hard in his fists. “Did you do something to her?!”

His face was even and unchanged.

“No.” He nodded at him. “You did.”

He reached out and grabbed Murdoc around the neck, squeezing hard. Noodle ran up, picking up the hatchet, but Murdoc kicked out at her, driving her away.

"No," he strained. "Don't."

"You were always such a tiny boy. Small. Weak. But what a menace. You made things so hard on your mother, even when you were young. It was impossible for her to bear."

"That's bullshit," he growled, biting his nails into his father's hands.

He pulled Murdoc in close, whispering in his ear.

"How could a mother love you? How could anyone? You were always so hateful, so difficult. There was something wrong with you from the beginning, something evil. You know, if you'd never been born, she'd still be around."

"That's bullshit," he hissed, his voice breaking.

"You even tried to kill your own father, as pitiful an attempt as it was. You couldn't even get that right," he hummed, stroking his face with his nails, then sinking them hard into his cheeks. "Well… if you still want me dead… why don't we go together..."

Bright orange flame engulfed the man in a rush of blazing heat. Noodle grabbed Murdoc by his belt, tugging backwards, screaming out. Heat licked at his skin, searing his hands that desperately tried to peel his father's fingers off. Murdoc strained and finally broke from his grip and flung himself back, falling onto his hands as he crawled away. His father stood still, burning, watching. Murdoc drew his knees up to his chest, hiding his face in his palms. Noodle knelt down, shaking him.

“Murdoc!”

He clutched his face, grinding his teeth.

“Sebastian always lies. Jacob always lies. Sebastian always lies. Jacob always lies.”

“Murdoc?”

He gasped for breath, peering through the cracks in his fingers. Noodle pulled his hands away from his face, sitting in front of him. Everything was quiet and grey again, motionless in the fog. 

“He’s gone,” she said in a gentle voice. “He just vanished.”

He looked down at his hands, unscathed and unburnt. He panted, his eyes flicking from his palms to where his father had stood, his throat dry and hoarse from yelling.

“I…”

Noodle sat with her hands in her lap, unsure of what to say.

She jumped as he pulled her into a tight embrace, his hand coming down on the back of her head to press her so hard into his shoulder that she thought she might choke. She hesitated, wrapping her arms carefully around him.

His body shook with held-back sobs, and she sat patiently, running her hand over his back in circles as they sat in silence, ash falling soft around them, and the air thick with the smell of fire.


	7. Melancholy Requiem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previous chapter summary for those who prefered to skip the last one:
> 
> _Noodle and Murdoc's boat floated to the other side of the lake, and they left it behind as they continued toward Old Silent Hill. They were attacked by two monsters, which Noodle killed, but worsened her injury. Murdoc carried her to the town and demanded they go to the hospital. She refused, insisting they look for 2D and Russel instead, and claiming Murdoc just wanted to get rid of them. After Murdoc convinced her that they both would have wanted to take her to the hospital too, she relented, and agreed._
> 
> _Outside the hospital, Murdoc was confronted by an image of his father. Sebastian pulled up old memories of abuse he inflicted on Murdoc and his brother, which sent Murdoc to pieces, overwhelmed with fear and anger. Sebastian disappeared as Murdoc broke down, left to be comforted by Noodle, who sat with him as he sobbed._

* * *

He took a deep inhale through his nose, wiping his face roughly in his palms, still stained with dry blood.

"Well," he snapped suddenly, getting to his feet in a hurry. He slapped his cheeks, clearing his throat. "That was horrible."

Noodle edged back as he stood, her mouth falling open.

“...Murdoc?”

“I left Trent so I’d never have to see that fucker again, but I guess I’m not that lucky.”

The look on his face unnerved her―blank, flat, with a smile that had nothing behind it.

“I… Do you… want to talk about it?”

“Why?” he snorted. “There’s nothing to talk about. Let’s go.”

"Murdoc..."

"I'm... fine," he hissed. "Enough."

She got up, watching him climb the stairs quickly despite his limp. Rage radiated off him, his hands shaking as he kept his eyes, still puffy and red, focused forward, his jaw clenched tight to keep himself from saying anything.

The door squeaked loud when he pushed it open, echoing in the emptiness. He grunted.

“What did I expect… Empty, like everything else.”

Noodle clicked the flashlight on, running it over the mess of gurneys, chairs, and papers scattered all over the lobby. It was dark. The only light peeked in from the windows that lined the front and threw long shadows across the floor. Murdoc hobbled over to the front desk, peering over.

“Ooooh, hell yes.”

A pack of cigarettes and a lighter rested on the counter, and he snapped it up right away.

"Oh, augh, menthol..."

He fished a cig out from the carton and cupped his hand around the lighter. The nicotine gave him a heady rush that made him crane his neck back in a split second of bliss.

"You can't smoke in here."

He glanced down at her, and she slowly cracked a grin, pointing up to the _ "No Smoking" _ sign.

"Shut the fuck up," he chuckled, taking a long drag.

Noodle walked behind him, shining the flashlight around as they went. She was still shaken from Murdoc’s father, what he’d said. She couldn't shake the image of Murdoc on his back while his father nearly blinded him. It made her nauseous. She watched him as he barreled on ahead, silent. He was tense, strung tight with a thin layer of good humor like thin ice on a lake. She gripped the Maglite and kept her thoughts to herself. Trying to get Murdoc to talk when he didn’t want to never ended well.

A vending machine sat in the hall, still full. Murdoc blew out a puff of smoke as he took the ax from her.

"Ah, don't try this at home, kid."

He turned his face away and smashed the blade into the glass, shattering it. Noodle whipped around nervously as the sound echoed in the empty hall, gripping the hatchet tight as he handed it back to her. He sifted through the glass and tossed her a candy bar.

"Ooh, they've got Almond Joy. They knew I was coming," he grunted, leaning down.

Noodle tore the wrapper away, greedily eating it up in second, her stomach growling. She hadn't eaten in three days. Her fear had abated her hunger, but now it all came rushing to her at once. Murdoc seemed much less ravenous, mindfully breaking off bits at a time between drags from his cig. He'd never been a big eater to begin with. He saved all the room in his stomach for drinking, she assumed. He picked through the rest, tossing her another candy.

"Russ ain't here, go nuts."

They both stopped cold, looking at each other. Regret weighed on him as he looked away, starting back down the hall with Noodle plodding along behind.

"Antibiotics," he grunted through the cig, peering into a nurse's station as they passed. "Cipro, Amoxicillin, Levofl―you phased out again. I'm sorry, does life-saving medication not hold your interest?"

Noodle glanced around warily, pointing the flashlight at each door they passed.

"I feel like we're being watched."

"Maybe a hot nurse, heh-heh."

He took another furious drag. He felt it too. He'd felt it from the moment they stepped inside, his skin prickling. He could feel something in there with them, but he couldn't cut and run, not until they got what they came for. He cleared his throat.

"Anyway… antibiotics, stitch kit, iodine." He glanced down at her, grumbling. "Shot of lidocaine if we can find it."

The idea of sticking a needle in her sat like a stone in his stomach. But it was better than leaving the gash open to fester, and much less painful than burning it shut. He knew that from experience.

He motioned for her to hand over the flashlight, and she gave it to him tentatively, watching the hall over her shoulder. He turned around, pushing himself up onto the counter and swinging his legs over with a pained groan.

"Ah, Dr. Niccals, checking in," he grunted to no one, sliding down. "Thirteen-year-old patient, beat to hell, with a critical case of Teenage Know-it-All Syndrome."

She climbed over right behind him. Murdoc ground out the end of his cigarette on the desk and lit up a new one, squinting to run his eyes over the shelves of meds.

Noodle hovered at the desk as he browsed, unable to shake the feeling that something was lurking around. Every shadow set her on edge. The handle of the ax bit hard into her sweating palms. He jumped as he came up behind her.

"Ready for surgery?"

He cracked open the door to a patient’s room, peeking in cautiously before slipping inside. There was a window on the far side of the room that let in a wash of bright, grey light, almost blinding after wandering around in the dark. He jammed a chair up under the door handle tight, testing to see if it would hold.

"Ooh, they've got one of those wheely stools. This is why I got my degree."

He wiped the old metal tray down with a gauze pad soaked in iodine, cleaning it the best he could before laying out his tools and plopping himself down. He patted the chair for her to come over.

"Like playing doctor, except extremely real."

He scooted over to the sink where a bottle of hand sanitizer still sat. Noodle sat down, pulling her jacket off. She lifted her shirt, touching the edge of the wound. It was wet, still open and red and angry looking. She winced, pressing her fingertips to it.

"Ah-ah, don't touch."

She eyed the cigarette in his mouth.

"Should you be smoking while you do this?"

"Steadies the hand," he said, shaking his hand around dramatically.

He stopped as soon as he saw the angry look on her face.

"Ah, kidding."

She turned away as he pulled the needle for the injection from its wrapper, moaning.

"Uhh, you good, Noods?"

"I'm… not a big fan of needles."

The cigarette went limp in his lips.

"You're kidding, right? Of all the things that _ don't _ scare you, this is the one that does it?"

"I have… bad memories of needles."

He grunted, turning around to draw the lidocaine where she couldn't see. Her leg bounced furiously.

"Murdoc."

"Yyyyeah?" he grunted, aspirating the injection.

"About… what happened outside…"

He stopped, his eyes lowering.

"I'm sorry… about what he did. It's horrible."

He snorted.

"What happened happened. No use getting weepy," he muttered. "Don't look."

She stared up at the ceiling, every muscle tensing up as he drew close. He knelt down to her side, pulling up the edge of her shirt.

"There, done."

"Really?" she said, relaxing in a rush of relief.

"No."

A sharp jab stuck her side.

"くそ!! What the fuck?!"

"It's worse if you're tense. Though, I am proud of your swearing."

He set the needle down, soaking another gob of gauze in the iodine.

"I am not going to lie, this will hurt. Do _ not _ kick me, you understand?"

She stiffened her jaw as he carefully wiped out the wound. It burned like hell, and every inch of her vibrated and screamed with pain, but she didn't move, didn't flinch, didn't make a sound. Her threshold for pain was frighteningly high for someone her age. He looked up at her warily and cleared his throat.

"You're good at keeping secrets. I'd appreciate it if you kept what you heard out there on the down-low. I don't need pity from people."

Her body released as he pulled away. She sucked in a long breath through her nose, letting it go slowly.

"I won't say anything."

"Good," he muttered, threading the hooked needle behind her back. "Alright, you ready to stop looking like a butterflied steak?"

She nodded, turning her face away.

"Definitely don't look this time."

"Not helping."

"Sorry," he snorted.

She felt a distant jab of pressure and something pulling. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it felt wrong and made her want to wriggle away. She kept her head turned, gripping the chair. Murdoc tried desperately to imagine he was sewing up anyone else, but it didn't help that Noodle insisted on talking.

"You said… you didn't know what happened to your mother."

He took a long drag, trying his damnedest to focus as his frustration built.

"You know, I reeeeally don't want to talk about it."

"You'll never learn to accept your past until you confront it. Otherwise, you'll never really be living in the present, with one foot behind you."

He hesitated, pulling the thread slowly.

"How zen of you," he muttered. "Well, maybe when I'm not being hunted for sport, I'll think about that."

"If it's any consolation, I don't know what happened to mine, either," she said quietly.

Murdoc glanced up at her, a pit growing inside him that he didn't recognize or like. He shook himself, tying off another stitch.

"Don't wiggle around so much."

She sat still, staring at the wall where pale green paint was peeling off in shards. He made a strange noise in his throat, as he often did.

"Well," he grunted. "Welcome to the Shitty Parents Club."

A tiny smile pulled at her lips, then faltered.

"Murdoc?"

"Mm…"

"... I miss Russel and 2D."

That shut him up for a while, his eyes trained hard on keeping his stitches even and taught.

"Well," he grumbled. "I don't miss Russ yelling at me all the time, and I definitely don't miss 'D's stupid questions. But… I guess it is weird without them," he admitted. "In spite of their _ many _ faults."

Noodle knew that was as close to missing someone as Murdoc could get.

"Alright, done. Do! Not! Touch! It!"

She peeked down, lifting her shirt up. Despite a pang of nausea that pulsed through her at the sight, she had to admit he didn't do a horrible job. It was sealed up, still blotchy and swollen, but finally closed.

"Here," he said, shaking a bottle of pills at her. "Take one and hang onto the bottle."

She dry-swallowed the large pill, feeling it stick in her throat on the way down. She slipped the bottle into her jacket as she pulled it back on.

His feet were horrid to look at―blistered and red with huge blotches of purple-black bruises spotted all over. He hurried to unravel a long bandage, binding up one foot, then the other.

"Alright, let's wrap up this exceptionally creepy and far too touchy-feely portion of our visit to this lovely town."

She looked down at where he rubbed his knee.

“Murdoc, if you need to rest―”

“I don’t,” he said simply, getting up.

He shimmied the chair out from under the door, ignoring her. It was unbearable to stand as the new bindings rubbed his feet, squeezing on his wounds hard. But he grit his teeth and weighed from one foot to the other, leaning into the pain, his eyes flat and unblinking. At least it was something he could focus on.

He stopped stiff, and Noodle peered out the door with her flashlight from under his arm. All along the floor of the hallway ran a thick trail of wet, sticky blood.


	8. Sickness Unto Foolish Death

Murdoc pulled the door back, peeking out of a small crack at the trail of blood, still wet.

"How?" he breathed, lowering himself over her. "There's no way it could have followed us all the way around the lake."

She swallowed against her dry throat, clinging to the doorframe.

"There might be more than one."

Both of their stomachs wrenched up at the thought. Murdoc hovered, edging back inside the room. Fear gripped him. He didn’t want to go back out. Maybe, he thought, it was best to stay put until it moved on.

“We have to get out. Now,” she hissed, grabbing his hand tight.

“Noods―”

She dragged him into the hall, staying low.

The sound came screaming out of the silence, forcing their stomachs into their throats. The siren, deafeningly loud, pierced their chests in a ripple of sound. Murdoc froze, rooted to the spot, his body stiff and buzzing with fear. Noodle tugged his arm.

“Come on.”

The whole hospital moaned and creaked as if it were twisting in on itself. Murdoc crouched down, bracing himself. Everything was changing, warping in front of his eyes as he stared into the darkness. Rust peeled from the walls, the floor, and floated up on an invisible wind. Heat pulsed through the hallway like a belching furnace, the cool air flushing hot. The walls ashed away into chain-link grates. The building pulsed, like a heartbeat. And everything was red.

He could barely hear Noodle as she tugged on his arm and begged him to move, his ears ringing. Everything felt distant and muffled, all he could hear was his own breathing. Every muscle trembled. It smelled like fire. This was Hell.

Her hand came down hard across his face. He jerked up and floated to the surface, suddenly clear and alert. His cheek pulsed.

"Move!"

Noodle broke into a sprint down the hall and he staggered behind, his heels clacking loud against the floor and his hand gripped tight in hers.

She snatched him by the back of the shirt as they rounded the corner, yanking him back roughly as she pressed up hard against the wall. Her voice was barely a whisper above the siren.

"It's there."

It was huge in the hallway, nearly sliding across the whole width of the floor as it crawled on its hands. It was close enough to smell the stench of rotting flesh. The nub of its head twisted around as it felt it's way along, and the ribcage was split all the way down its long body, oozing puss and bile as it slunk in a heaving mass, its eight arms dragging itself forward. The tongue slid along the ground, searching, dripping thick saliva as it twitched. The arms in the middle reached out, grasping at anything it could grab as it pulled itself closer and closer toward them. A rat scurried across the floor, running for a hole in the wall. A hand shot out and splattered it in a burst of red on the ground, dragging the body into its cage of bones with its long tongue.

Noodle's fingers wrapped so tightly around Murdoc's that she thought she might pull them off his hand. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. He was ghost white, pale and trembling. Murdoc's heart was beating out of his chest. He could feel it throb in his throat. She took a step back, carefully, leading him behind her. Murdoc forced his legs to move, quivering with every breath.

Its hand grasped the wall, pulling itself around the corner, its tongue running over where they'd just been standing. The creature chittered, slinking along the floor, it's hands grasping, reaching. Noodle kept backing up, slow, quiet, the hatchet slick with sweat in her hand. Murdoc walked on the front of his feet, trying to keep his heels as quiet as he could as they retreated one step at a time back the way they'd come.

They backed up one inch at a time until Murdoc's hands pressed up against the door at the end of the hall. He looked up, beads of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. A stairway.

Murdoc carefully pressed down on the bar to push it open, but it was stuck, rusted in place. 

He shook Noodle by the shoulder and pressed a finger to his lips. He moved in front of her, facing the creature as his legs shook. She pressed into his back, looking out from under his arm. He clasped his hands around the bar of the door. With the sound of the siren, he could push it open without being heard, as long as he was careful. The creature slid closer, a low groan leaking out of its gaping maw. He pressed down on the bar, slowly, sweating, watching it slide toward them.

The deafening wail of the siren hushed into a drone, then dissolved into nothing. His blood went cold. They were trapped. Couldn't go forward, couldn't go back. And the tongue slid closer and closer. He gripped the bar tight, squeezing his eyes shut. 

He pushed it back in one hard motion, the hinges shrieking as the door swung open, and he shoved Noodle into the stairway behind him. The tongue shot out like a bullet and wrapped tight around his ankle, slamming him hard onto the floor as it jerked his legs out from under him.

"Murdoc!"

He struggled to pull his leg out, sliding across the floor on his back as it dragged him towards its dripping, gaping mouth, but his fingers slipped against the slimy muscle and it squeezed so tightly he thought his ankle would break. Panic flooded him. His boots scraped the floor as he tried to dig his heels in.

"Noodle!" he begged, his nails bleeding as he clawed at the ground and struggled to pull away. "The ax! Give me―"

With a sickening _ CRACK_, the creature lifted him and struck his face against the ground. Murdoc crumpled limp, sliding along the floor. Its hands reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into its mouth, and swallowing him up whole.

All her breath left her.

Noodle left her body in one long, shaking exhale, unblinking, unseeing.

She couldn't even feel herself move. The hatchet lifted up on its own, her whole body on fire, and it came down as hard as she could swing it into its head. Blackened blood spit from it, a gurgling yell ripping from its slopping mouth. She was screaming, so loudly that she didn't even recognize her own voice. It lashed out, grabbing her by the arm to drag her to the floor. She twisted around, grunting, and hacked into its arm until it came free from its body in a spray of blood.

Hands came down on her, one after another, pressing down to crush her. Air burst out of her, strangling her under the pressure. It bent forward, the faceless head craning down to shift its weight onto her pound by pound until she struggled for breath that refused to come. She contorted, jerking her head free to take a gasp of air. She heard her shoulder pop under the strain, putting every ounce of strength into working her arm out to grab the slick handle of the ax.

She shrieked, swinging the ax up hard again and again and again until the creature was reduced to a seizing, twitching mess, its arms twitching blindly to try and grab something, anything. And then, it was still.

Noodle's head fell back against the floor, her lungs gulping air. She gave a strong tug, pulling herself out from under its body and letting the ax clatter to the ground. She wheezed and coughed on her hands and knees, dripping wet with blood and saliva. Her fingers slipped on the creature's slick skin as she braced herself against the side of it, rolling it over onto its side until its mouth opened wide and its tongue rolled out across the floor. Murdoc's limp arm jutted out from it, slack and motionless.

She thrust both arms into it, feeling for him, and pulled until he slipped out, his body coated in slick mucus.

She grabbed him up under his arms and dragged him away, laying him down on the floor with his head rolled listlessly to the side. Her hands were soaked red. A large gash was ripped from his cheek to his ear, bleeding into his hair and down his jaw. She shuddered, shaking him.

"Murdoc! Murdoc wake up! Get up…"

His mouth hung open, eyes closed as if he were in a deep sleep.

She couldn't breathe.

Noodle pressed her ear to his chest, closing her eyes. His heartbeat was faint, barely a twitch in his body, but there. She gathered him up into her arms, his head hanging against her chest as ripples of panicked dry sobs shook her. Her eyes shot up and down the hall, everything silent and crimson and still. Her gut twisted. They had to move.

He looked scrawny, but he was heavier than she expected. She looped his arm loosely around her neck, and leaned forward, pulling him up onto her shoulders. Noodle braced herself, gritting her teeth, and got to her feet, groaning loud under his weight. Sparkles burst in her eyes under the strain. Her legs quaked, and she finally lifted him from the ground, crouching with his body draped over shoulders her like a coat. She gripped tight onto his arm and legs, nails digging in. Her shoes scraped across the floor as she forced herself forward, her breaths heavy and shaking.

Every step felt like her last. But she pushed through her body's pleas to stop, carrying him to the end of the hall and shoving through the double doors. Knives stabbed into her side a thousand times with each movement, her gash straining against the fresh stitches under the weight of him. Her spine bent like a twig about to snap. She knew she had to put him down, but she couldn't, and forced herself on, panting hard. The lobby wasn't far but she was nearly crawling. Every inch was a mile. And it was a million miles to the front door.

Something clattered in the darkness, freezing her blood. She swallowed her gasping breaths, gripping into his arm. Her spine screamed as she turned and backed up into the room behind her, slinking into the shadow. She stifled a scream as the pressure eased off her spine as she bent to her knees, and crouched down low to slip him off.

She peeked around the edge of the doorframe, hands gripping into Murdoc's limp body hard. A tapping sound echoed in the silence, growing closer and closer until something slid from the shadows.

A long blade, like a huge knife, drove its point quietly into the floor, then another, and heaved a creature into the dim light.

A spider―each leg a long, sharp blade bound with barbed wire to the ends of rounded off nubs of arms and legs of a woman, supine, her back bent and her chest nearly brushing the ceiling. Her head looked like it had been snapped, dangling backward, her long black hair dragging across the ground as it moved. The ends of the blades tapped like high-heels against the floor as it moved on all fours. Two long arms jutted lifelessly from its back, limp and swinging like a pendulum as it moved.

It filled the hallway, its head swaying as it peered around with milky, blue eyes, clacking down the hall in a slow march. Its jaws clicked together with a sickening chatter.

Noodle pulled herself back and pressed up against the wall, wrapping her arms around Murdoc to grip him close. She buried her head into the back of his sweat-slicked neck, grabbing at his shirt.

_ Click. Clack. Click. Clack. _

Her heart throbbed in her throat, her breath stopped up in her mouth. The shadow of it passed the doorway.

_ Click. Clack. Click. CLACK. _

Everything stopped.

The silence was deafening. She stopped breathing, every nerve in her body dissolving in prickling terror. The oily shadow of the thing hovered in the doorway.

A guttural, deep groan echoed from it, filling her with such dread that tears sprung to her eyes.

"_Xuuuu… chillll… baaaa… raaaa…_"

The voice was hoarse and dissonant, clicking with strain and effort.

Noodle sank her nails into his shirt.

_ Click. Click. Click. _

"_Hhhhhhhhh… I… can… smell… you…_"

She closed her eyes, bracing herself.

The clattering echoed down the hall again. The creature stopped, its breathing low and heavy.

_ … Click. Clack. Click. Clack. _

The tapping retreated down the hall the way she'd come, fading into a distant pattering until it was gone completely.

Noodle collapsed against the wall, letting Murdoc's body go, sliding down into her lap. She gasped for air, her brain buzzing. Sweat beaded down her back, chills shuttering through her.

She stared down at him, panting. He was bleeding, too much. She needed to do something, patch him up, but they couldn't stay in the hospital. It was a trap, and only a matter of time until she ran out of energy to carry him any further. Every moment they were still was a gamble.

She had to get out, get them both out.

Pain radiated from her side. She reached down under her jacket, pulling away a bloody palm. The stitches at the top wound had burst open, bleeding under her shirt. She wiped her hand on her jeans and pulled her jacket off, tying it tight around her middle to keep pressure on it.

Fear renewed her strength, and she pulled him back onto her shoulders, carrying him out into the hall. She barely felt the strain, her body going numb as she marched as fast as she could towards the entrance, crossing the lobby in a hobbling run until she threw her weight against the door and plunged them both into the daylight.


	9. Dreams of Leaving

Everything was grey. It stung her eyes, bursting out from the red and the rust into the hazy light of day.

Noodle stumbled on the stairs, twisting her knee hard to keep her balance. She bit into her lip until blood sprang up. Carefully, she went one step at a time until they reached the bottom, not daring to look back, not even to check if they were being pursued. She limped on, her breath coming out in loud huffs as she made a beeline for the opposite side of the street. They had to get somewhere inside, anywhere safe, if that was even possible. She had to put him down, or her spine would give out.

There was a strip of shops, all boarded up except one. A florist, its huge front window covered up with yellowed newspapers, but its door remained un-barricaded. She turned and pressed her back up against the heavy metal door. It squeaked open slow until she could slip inside, nearly smashing Murdoc’s skull on the doorframe on the way in.

It was tiny inside, just the storefront and a back room with a utility sink for pruning. Diffused, grey light leaked in from the gaps in the newspapers, casting spots all over the walls and linoleum floor. The cases were filled with shriveled, brown blossoms that rested against the glass like little dried-up hands. It was quiet. Nothing but stale air and dust that floated lazily in the dim beams of light.

Her nerves let go, just a little. She was so tired. She groaned as she crouched down and slipped him off her shoulders, careful not to bang his head, which was barely starting to clot. Her body shook with every movement, giving out under her as she dragged him under his arms across the floor and rested him up against the wall behind the counter. Desperate, gasping breaths stung her lungs, her head leaned back on the glass case and her hand pressed hard into her side. She'd popped her stitches, felt them go under the strain. Her palm was wet, but she didn't dare look. It was all for nothing, then. She was still hurt and now he…

Noodle crawled over on her hands, every muscle stretched to its limit and weak, and she nearly had to drag herself to him. She grasped onto the counter, pulling herself up to sort through the drawers until she pulled out a rusted pair of scissors. It was a struggle to untie her jacket from around her waist, the loss of pressure making her wound throb. She grit her teeth, shaking her head to focus her eyes as she laid the jacket flat and cut long strips from it where there was no blood. It wasn't enough, but she had to do something to cover up the gash.

She wrapped it around his head, his hair stuck to the gash that was both dry and wet and getting wetter by the second the more she touched him. She tied it tight, wiping what she could off his face. He was alive, but she couldn’t tell if the wound had split his skin or his skull. She wiped his blood from her hands across the front of her shirt, her skin stained rusty.

She leaned back on her heels, hands pulling at the back of her neck, her head hanging down as every limb started to tremble from strain.

The temptation to lay down and shut her eyes for just a minute was overwhelming.

She awkwardly got to her feet and paced with a limp, shaking out her hands, doing anything to wake herself up. She couldn't sleep, not with him like that. If something snuck up on them, they'd both be dead. Every breath stung, her body shivering with adrenaline rushing out of her. Everything felt muted and far away, even her own breathing.

And her side hurt. It hurt to the point of being an unignorable nuisance less because of the intensity of the pain and more because it wasn't going away. Like being jabbed in the ribs over and over. It set her teeth on edge.

A low, gutteral grumble from outside pulled her attention away from her wound.

She eyed the spots of light peeping through the gaps in the newspaper plastering the front window. Paranoia drove her toward it, crouching down to look through the cracks to see what was out there. Her heart dropped into her stomach.

The street was moving, crawling, every inch packed with the jerking, walking dead. The same ones from the road, but dozens, hundreds, writhing and screeching and vomiting and thrashing. The hospital peeked through the fog, a ghost in the grey.

And from the entrance crept the spider, each long, knife-like leg digging into the concrete step by step, wading amongst the twisting bodies that gave way, shuddering from the creature as it moved among them. Even they seemed to fear it, even just on beastial instinct.

It was more horrifying and nauseating in the light of day, its spine twisted in a prone, tense arch. The barbed wire that bound each blade to the knobby ends of each limb were wrapped so tightly that every movement must have been agony, if it felt anything at all. Its skin was blued like a corpse, its head craned backward and swinging side to side with each step, its long black hair dragging along the ground as it paced, looking. Looking for them.

She moved on fear alone and grabbed up the metal chair from behind the counter, jamming it up under the door handle in a frenzy.

They were trapped like rats. No way forward, and no way back.

There was no hope. There was nothing.

Panic gripped her.

Fear and exhaustion were quickly slipping into anger, blinding and consuming. She hovered over him, her hands clenching into tight, sweating fists.

Why’d he have to take her to the hospital? She was right back to how she was before, so what did it matter? They risked their lives for nothing. If he’d just listened to her, they might have found the others by now. They could be on their way home. But he never listened, never listened to anyone.

"It's your fault! It's all your fault! _ You _ crashed the car, _ you _ got in the boat, _ you _ took us to the hospital and _ you _ got yourself hurt! That was all you! You never listen to me. You never just do what you should. You always have to get your way, well I hope you’re happy, because it’s going to kill both of us."

She swung her leg hard and kicked his boot, his leg sliding limply across the floor, and instantly she felt the crushing weight of guilt press down on her. Her knees dug hard into the floor as her body fell slack, her eyes stinging with sweat and tears.

"It's your fault…"

She buried her face in her knees, doubled-over and clutching her nails into her arms.

"... It's my fault. If I had just stayed put, I never would have gotten hurt, and we never would have gone to the hospital. I wasn't quick enough. I wasn't smart enough. I fucked up.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to get a hold of her rapid, panicked breaths. 

It wasn't anyone's fault. She knew that. This town, this place, it had a power. Something unavoidable and all-consuming. Something neither of them might have had the wits, or strength, or forethought to overcome. Maybe, she thought, this was Hell. But it didn't matter. Didn't matter what this place was. They needed to get out. And that was on her, now. She had to keep a clear head. She had to stay sane. For her, for Murdoc, for 2D and Russel. For all of them.

She had to calm down. Panic made bad decisions. She tried to empty her mind, slip away to another place, somewhere far from here, where she could think.

In her own room, back at home, surrounded by her own things, surrounded by familiar sights and sounds. With her music, and the boys, in unharmonious harmony.

She opened her eyes, letting out a long slow breath. She needed to see that again.

Noodle came back to the window, peering out again. There was no way they could make it through. She was hamstrung with him slung around her neck like a scarf. If she dragged him around with his head slashed open, she was going to get them both killed.

But staying wasn't an option either. No food, no water, and it would only be a matter of time before something smelled his blood, or he...

There was another option: leaving him behind, finding some safe place to stash him and try to slip by and hope nothing found him. She could sneak back into the hospital, or try to look for the others to help. Her nails bit into her arms. That was the logical choice. But she couldn't bring herself to leave him like that, dead to the world and vulnerable with the stench of blood all over him. She might as well have just dragged him out into the street to ring the dinner bell.

She was so sick of Murdoc pushing everyone around, carrying on and telling her what to do. Now his silence frightened her so deeply she couldn’t stand it. She would have killed to have him perk up and try to give her orders.

It was her turn to call the shots, now. And though she knew her judgement was better than his, she felt very much alone. Whether they lived or died rested solely with her.

But she was so tired, and with every step her energy waned, until she nearly collapsed back down beside him, her body screaming for respite.

The world faded a second, her head swinging down, her vision unfocused. She snapped up, tensing every muscle, bouncing her leg.

_ Can't go to sleep. _

_ Can't sleep. _

_ Can't… _

"N…"

Her head snapped up.

He was moving. Murdoc struggled to keep his eyes open in a pained squint, his lips just barely parting in a wheezing breath.

Her hands slapped against the ground as she crawled over to him, her eyes wide and unblinking.

"N… hmph… I… hit m'head," he coughed, his chest jerking with a sucking gasp she thought might have been an attempt at a laugh.

"Don't talk," she snapped. "Just stay still."

He raised his head, nodding for her to come closer. She leaned in, straining to hear the croaking whisper leaking from his mouth. He reached up, his rough palm coming down shakily on her face to bring her in closer. His voice was an unfamiliar hiss.

"He's going to die, you know."

She could feel fingertips along her cheek, her eyelids too heavy to flicker open.

"M… Murdoc?"

She struggled in her grogginess, shaking her head. Something was on top of her, something that smelled like burnt hair and flesh.

Her eyes snapped open, her heart bursting out of her as her vision focused on the creature grasping at her face.

Its hands burned, seering to the touch. She screamed, scrambling back and swatting the thing away until it crawled back into the shadows.

There were dozens of them, watching, pacing on the edge of the darkness. They looked like children, emaciated and tiny and coated in soot. They crawled on hands and knees like beasts, ashes of burnt skin peeling off as they moved, with empty black holes for eyes and thin little mouths that bore sharp tiny teeth. They chattered their jaws, dragging Murdoc's slack body by his clothes, dozens of tiny hands pulling him across the floor.

"Get away from him!"

One lunged forward on its hands, wrapping itself around her leg, tighter, tighter. It held her in a vice grip, crawling up her leg, closer and closer. The mouth of sharp teeth opened, its voice hissing like air escaping a balloon.

"助けて... 助けて..."

Her whole body shuddered.

Where her hands came down on it, ash burst from its skin, her palm driving down into its skull to struggle free, her skin burning hot. She buried her fingers into the holes where eyes should have been and hacked the ax into its neck, its arms falling limp. In a burst, it's body crumbled away.

She swung the hatchet, slashing at them until they screeched and turned away, hovering around the edges and eyeing his body like vultures waiting for a dying creature to take its last breath. She struck out at one, and another made a sprint for him on its hands and legs. She stood over him, panting, her lungs stinging with each breath.

They circled on hands and knees, watching, a low hiss leaving through their slitted mouths.

They all perked up at once, listening. One by one they slunk into the oily shadows and disappeared like candles snuffed out in the dark, until all that was left was a trail of black soot on the ground.

Her breaths came in quick, pained bursts, her fist closing down hard around the hatchet.

She ground her thumb into her side, the shot of pain knocking the wind out of her in a burst of white. She panted, staggering back. She was awake.

She stopped, suddenly. If those creatures were running away, they had to be getting out somewhere.

A large hole, hidden behind peeling wallpaper that was yellowed and curling with age. They would be walking straight into where they’d come from, but it was better than going outside, or waiting for something bigger to get in. She hoped.

She braced herself, trying to slip him back onto her shoulders, her jaw clenched hard. Blood rushed through her ears with effort until she felt something pop in her skull and her vision flashed white. With a jolt her knees gave out and she fell flat the the floor, Murdoc rolling off her back onto the ground.

Noodle panted, running her hands through her hair, her nails scratching hard into her scalp. Her head pounded, throbbed with every breath.

There was no time to wait to get her strength back. She'd have to drag him.

His boot scraped across the floor as she gripped him under the arms and pulled him back to the hole, laying him down flat. It was large enough for her to stand up inside, maybe even for him, too, if he could stand. The walls looked like they'd been dug out with a spoon, made of hundreds of smooth digs into concrete like a melon being scooped. It was unnatural. She flashed the light down the tunnel, feeling a warm rush of heat from wherever it let out, but she saw nothing.

Noodle shoved the end of the hatchet through her belt loop and gripped the maglite in her mouth, pointing it down at her feet as she gave a harsh tug to get him inside. His heels clicked against the floor. She was going to scrape the shit out of his back, but she saw little other choice. He'd have to forgive the brush burn later.

She dragged him in bursts, pulling him along a few feet at a time, then resting, her forehead beaded with sweat. It was hot in the confines of the tunnel, like being baked in an oven. Every few seconds she shot the light down the way, hoping to see something, anything, but it was endless. This was a mistake, she thought, just like the boat. There might never be an end to it.

But one step backwards nearly sent her tumbling down into a pit where the tunnel snaked down deeper into the ground, the blade of the ax pressing dangerously into her side. She clawed for purchase, gripping onto him hard. Noodle glanced back down, her feet tapping against something metal. A ladder.

A straight-ladder led down onto what looked like a catwalk, a mesh metal grate about ten feet down. She glanced up at Murdoc, furiously trying to think of a way to get him down. She clamored back up, giving his arm a sharp pinch.

"Murdoc, now would be a great time to wake up."

He didn't flinch, didn't move, his head turned to the side and his mouth gaped open.

Her hands clutched the outside of the ladder, her feet pressed hard against the rung below. This was the only thing she could think of without dropping him. She dragged him to the edge of the pit, facing him parallel to the edge. She'd have to carry him in her arms down. Noodle took a long breath, then pulled him forward. The second she rolled him into the crooks of her elbows she screamed behind her teeth, his body weight crushing down on her arms till she thought they would break. She split her lip biting into it, trying to control her descent and keep her arms at sharp right angles without letting go. Each rung was torture, her hands digging in hard to the metal, scraping long scratches into her palms.

He collapsed into her arms when her feet touched the ground, sending them both tumbling into a heap, Noodle laid out flat on her back and motionless, Murdoc's head cradled in her lap. She stared up at the hole, her eyelids flickering as her palms pulsed.

She couldn't go any further. She'd spent all she had.

She wriggled to twist around, barely able to grip the flashlight in her hand as the beam of light shot around. They were in some kind of underground passage, a mineshaft, it looked like. The metal catwalk ran over a deep, echoing pit below, then up to a less-than-stable looking rusted stairway up a metal scaffold hanging off the wall of the pit, upwards and out of sight. Warm air billowed up from under them, the sweating heat making her head swim.

There was no way she could drag him all the way up those steps. Not like how she was.

Beside it was a lift, unused for some time, by the look of it, and she doubted it still ran. Either way, they were fish in a barrel, and she couldn't take another step.

She struggled her hand into his pocket and fished out the bottle of pills, and from the other the cigarettes and lighter he'd grabbed from the hospital. The pill caught in her dry throat, jabbing the whole way down. She slipped the cigarette between her lips, lighting it up like she'd seen the boys do so many times. The heady nicotine rush made her dizzy, her head rolling back to rest against the ladder.

Russel had caught her smoking, once. She'd lifted one of 2D's cigarettes and took it outside, huddled up where she thought no one would find her. But her coughing fit didn't help.

He was livid, but in his own earnest and quiet way. He reamed her on how bad it was for her, how she'd get addicted and how hard it was to quit. And she'd yelled back something he couldn't quite understand, her anger getting the best of her. It made her feel horribly guilty, but Russ was gentle, and didn't seem to hold it against her, and somehow that made it even worse than being yelled at. She was so ashamed that she locked herself in her room the rest of the day.

The next time she smoked, she tried to slip one from Murdoc while he was dozing in the lobby, the TV on, his boots kicked up on the table, his magazine limp in his lap, eyes closed, mouth open. She was silent, sidling right up to slide one out of the carton on the table.

"And where, exactly, do you think you're going with that?"

She froze in place, glancing up at Murdoc, whose eyes were still closed. 

"I… was…"

"Was what, looking for a smoke?"

He looked over at her and stopped. Her eyes had been all puffy and red from crying, and her knuckles were dotted with open sores. She'd punched her speed bag bare-knuckled till the skin wore off.

"... I could use a smoke anyway," he muttered, grabbing up the carton and shuffling down the hall. "Well, are you coming or not?"

They sat up on the roof, staring down at the rocky cliff where Kong perched precariously on the edge. Murdoc lit hers for her and passed it over. She tried to choke back her cough, which made it so much worse. She pounded her chest, turning away. The taste of it made her sick.

Murdoc snorted, blowing out a long thread of silvery smoke.

"なにが... 問題... ですか?" he stuttered out.

He was on some kind of kick since she regained her English. He wanted her to translate for him. It was like he was making an honest effort to learn. He'd made fumbling attempts before, when she'd first arrived, struggling his way through basic phrases he'd pulled out of books, pronounced with such a strong English accent that it made her laugh. Sometimes he'd just point to the book in frustration, but he always tried again later. His tenacity had always been driven by his ego, and he hated to fail. It made him an ironically good student, when he had the interest.

So occasionally, she humored him, and slipped from one language to the other to get him to stretch his legs.

She stared down at the cigarette burning away in-between her fingers. She was wasting most of it, but he said nothing.

"私はいつも怒っています..."

"O-okotte?"

"Angry," she muttered.

"You're… always angry."

A long sigh left her.

"Well, not… always. But sometimes I get so angry, I don't know what to do with myself. I know I should be calm, collected. But…"

"Everyone gets pissed," he mumbled through his cig. "Can't expect yourself to be enlightened. You're not the Buddha. You're twelve. You're supposed to be pissed. It's in your nature when you're that age. At twelve, everything's stupid and everyone around you's an unbearable moron that treats you like you're six. You don't have any power over yourself, and no one listens to you, even when you're right. That'd drive anyone bloody mad."

She stared over at him, taking a small drag and managing not to cough.

"Besides, I'm pissed all the time. Not like I can't understand that."

"I don't know what to do with myself."

"Let it out. Scream. Break something. Do whatever you gotta do. It's better than letting it sit till you do something you regret. There's some shit you can never take back." He gestured down to her knuckles. "Better that than someone's tooth."

"You've been in plenty of fights. You lash out all the time."

He scoffed.

"It's that whole… teach the next generation to be better than you, thing. Do as I say, not as I do, and that shit." He gave her a sober look that was hard to place. "Don't turn out like me."

The both of them grew quiet, Noodle staring at her fingers, watching her cigarette ash out. She didn't even want to smoke, really. She just wanted relief, just for a minute. Murdoc just stared downward, clearing his throat the way he did when he was trying to think of what to say.

"You want to smoke again, you come find me, alright kid?"

"... Okay."

"You didn't turn out as bad as you think you did," she mumbled, staring up at the ladder, her body giving in to her exhaustion.

He was motionless in her lap, her free hand resting on his chest to make sure he was still breathing.

The cocktail of the pill and the nicotine slowly numbed the edges of the searing pain. A long billow of smoke left her in a sigh that burned her over-inflated lungs.

"We'll see how I end up."

_ Click. Clack. Click. Clack. _

It echoed down from the hole.

Everything turned cold, pulsing waves of nauseous fear flooding through her. The cigarette fell to the ground, Noodle scrambling to loop his arm around her neck. Time was glacial, every movement took a year. A pained grunt left her as she stood on quaking legs, Murdoc draped haphazardly over her, his head lolling forward.

Out. They had to get out. Broken body or not. It was run, or die.

Adrenaline pushed her forwards with nothing in the tank, her mouth open in dry, heaving bursts, her clothes sticking to her body from sweat. 

She awkwardly set him down at the lift, leaning in to the control box. The light was still green.

Her hands gripped the bottom of the door to pull it open. She heaved, groaning with effort as every muscle in her back strained beyond their limit, the door opening inch by horrid inch, shrieking, echoing endlessly in the void. Just another foot, just one more and they could crawl in. Just a little.

_ Click-Clack. Click-Clack. Click-Clack. _

She wrenched herself around, all the air in her lungs leaving her as her heart thudded deafening in her ears. One long leg at a time, the spider crawled out of the hole, struggling as each blade stuck into the holes of the grate.

Just one more inch, one more.

"_ SEE… YOU…" _

Just enough.

With one heavy push she rolled him into the lift, kneeling down to slip in behind him.

_ CLICKCLACK. CLICKCLACK. CLICKCLACK _.

She could barely turn her neck to see it hovering over her, its head craned back to pierce her with glassy eyes.

"_ XU… CHIL… BA… RA… _"

The flat of the blade hit her, sending her spinning into the railing. The side of her head cracked against the metal, and everything stopped.

In a huge breath she pushed herself up on her hands, her ears ringing. Fireworks popped in her skull, pounding in waves of white, hot, nauseating pain and the world spun. Her eyes struggled to focus in the darkness, the maglite laying flickering on the catwalk.

The creature was gone. Murdoc was gone.

She was alone.


	10. Devil's Laughter

The pit inverted as she clawed her way to her feet, grasping onto the rail as her feet buckled out from underneath her. Everything was spinning. She heaved, coughing out bile over the side. It hurt to even breathe.

Her forehead pressed into the cold metal, mouth open as she struggled to slow her breaths. Her pounding head pulsed, sending waves of nausea through her.

They were all gone.

She'd lost them all. Every single one.

She straightened up, forcing her weight onto shaking knees, turning up to point the beam of light at the stairs that wound up the scaffolding, up and out of sight. The door to the lift was pried open, the door snapped off its hinges and twisted up, rendering it useless. She’d have to climb the stairs or go back the way she came.

Noodle clung to the railing, breaths coming in long, labored shudders. Her palm slammed into the rail, a pained scream bitten back behind her teeth, jaw tight. He slipped right through her fingers. If she’d been quicker, stronger…

_ "Xuchilbara." _

Claudia, the old woman, had called him that as well. He was worth something to them, enough to take him, alive. He had to be. She gripped her fingers tight around the rail.

If she found Claudia, she’d find him, and the others. She’d wring her neck until she told her where they were.

The pulsing, hot silence of the pit broke with tiny hisses, like steam escaping a kettle. Her head snapped up. The ash children crawled along the underside of the catwalk, their little fingers poking through the holes. They watched her with glossy black eyes, sharp teeth bared. She reached down gripping the hatchet in her raw, scraped palms. Her feet slammed down on their little fingers and they scurried back, watching, waiting.

She dragged herself to the scaffolding, blinking away her dizziness. Her foot hovered on the first step, her hand tight around the railing as she looked up. It was a long climb. The children clamored on the catwalk, pacing closer and closer behind her.

With both hands on the railings, she ascended slowly, her side begging for relief with each stair climbed, the gash weeping anew. 

She could take the pain, she knew that. She was built to last. But in the throws of her exhaustion, her skin beading with sweat, she missed home so badly she thought she would cry. She missed the comfort of the boys around her, of their voices.

Russel still held her like she was small in his big arms, still gave her rides on his shoulders like she weighed nothing. He was always there, always made time, always set a hand on her shoulder when she needed. She missed his gentleness, his unending, quiet support. She felt weak without it.

2D's serene air made her mind ease and let her think. His ears and heart were always open, always listening. If Russel was compassionate, 2D was empathetic. When she cried, he cried. He exuded a peacefulness that grounded her. Without him, her mind was clouded and uncontrollable.

She hung on the railing, cradling her side.

Murdoc was always brutal in everything he did. Brutally honest, brutal in his anger, and brutal in work ethic. But there was something about him that pushed her further, pushed her past her limits. He drove her, and as cruel as he was, he trusted her, knew she could stand on her own, always somehow knew what she was capable of even if she didn't. Without that driving force, she felt as if she were standing still.

Together, all of them were more than they were on their own. They fought, not every moment was peaceful and happy. More often than not, they were a tumultuous powder keg of opinions and emotions. But it was the closest thing to a family she could imagine herself having.

She could feel them all, even through the distance, she carried them all with her. Russel's warm embrace, 2D's soothing words, Murdoc's expectant eyes. If she'd fallen, Russel would comfort her, 2D would tell her it was alright to fall, and Murdoc would tell her to get up. Russel mended pain, 2D empathized with pain, and Murdoc understood it. Each a facet of something she needed. She clutched them all close like a cross.

_ "You can." _

_ "You need to." _

_ "You will." _

She tilted her head up, swaying against the steps.

Being alone, weakened and suffering, made their absence known, and she wanted nothing more than to go home. As much as she wanted to depend only on herself… she was painfully reminded that she was still a child.

The creatures stalked close behind, clamoring up the scaffolding, gathering like a murder of crows, all watching with glassy, full, cruel eyes. Every slowed step from her and they gained an inch, slowly pressing her.

One grew close, stalking around the edges of her reach, the hatchet still jammed into her shorts as she pulled herself forward, the blade pressing dangerously into her skin. The gash pulsed with waves of sickening pain as she kicked out at it, her shirt growing wet again. It scurried back an inch, then reached out and latched onto her calf with a loud hiss.

Her teeth grit hard, stifling a scream. Its hand left a wide red mark around her calf. Her eyes snapped open.

She snatched the child up by the wrist and pulled it close, its skin burning her raw palm. It squealed and struggled as she pulled up the side of her shirt, and brought its searing hand down on her opened wound, a strangled scream bursting out of the both of them. She shook, nearly passing out, her vision fading until she ripped the child off her, her ears ringing. She stumbled back, grabbing onto the rail to keep herself from stumbling down the stairs.

The wound was cauterized shut, a sealed mass of burnt skin. She panted, resting her temple against her arm, her body sinking down onto the stairs. Finally shut.

The children watched her, backing down the scaffolding until they crept away into the darkness, their hisses hushing into the black nothingness until Noodle was left with her huffing breaths and her trembling pain.

A tiny smile pulled at the edges of her lips.

She dragged herself step by step up to the top of the scaffold, a heavy iron hatch above her. She twisted the hatch open, pushing up on the metal door with a loud grunt until it gave way and light blinded her in a grey haze, her face tucked down into her shoulder as she blinked away the glare.

Daylight.

The heat wooshed out of the air with a breeze that carried snowdrop ash. The effort it took to pull herself out made her arms shake, nearly buckling. She threw herself out, rolling onto her back.

Pine trees swayed in the lazy wind above, tilting like little hands in the air raking a grey sky. Her lungs contracted into nothing, every inch of her spent and exhausted. She couldn't stop, couldn't stay still, but muscle by muscle her body was giving in.

She shifted, feeling something underneath her. She was laying in something wet.

Noodle struggled to turn over and scrambled back, a shuddering yell bursting out of her.

Blood.

Blood smeared all over the street, all over her.

It made her hands slick, filled her nose with the stench of metal. She couldn't get it off. It ran her palms red, dyed her clothes, her shoes slipped against the brick as she crawled backward. It was warm.

She hid her face, blood smearing over her cheeks.

"It's not his," she told herself desperately. "It's not his. It's not—"

Her hands fell away.

The blood was gone.

She panicked, her hands running over her clothes, her skin. It wasn't there. The ghosting stench of metal haunted her nose, filled her. She shook.

Was she losing her mind? Was it a trick?

Noodle cupped her hands to her eyes. She was just tired. It was the exhaustion making her see things, she reasoned. That was all.

She grasped the handle of the hatchet and held it tight in her fist, shuddering. She'd let herself collapse before she stopped. She couldn't stop.

One shaking step became two, and she forced herself on, her mouth open in gasping breaths.

The brick path wound through a park of pine trees, the way dotted with glowing streetlamps that diffused in sickly yellow light against the fog. The path snaked out of view, leading into nothing in both directions. She had no idea where she was, if she was close to the town, or if she'd stumbled out of it. But the air still smelled like smoke and rot.

The pain in her side was blinding. It was the only thing she could think of as she walked, the only things she could feel. It hurt. It hurt too much to move. But her legs were taking her on their own. She wanted to rest, but her mind wouldn't let her. Her eyes struggled to focus.

An oily shadow slunk out of the dimming fog. It writhed in the light, staggering toward her with a sickening, gurgling moan.

Noodle stopped still.

The pain pulsed in her. She thought she was going to vomit. She swayed, her hand around the ax. She didn't know if she could even swing it without blacking out.

The creature looked distended, different. It looked full. It's faceless face twisted, red blood seeping from the mouth slit from collar to hip.

It had eaten.

Something snapped inside her mind, something that made her hands tighten around the handle. Her mind emptied, her eyes unfocused. The pain, suddenly, slipped away into the red numbness of rage and she couldn't feel anything.

This town was a pulsing evil. A rot that ate away from the inside out. It took everything. It devoured her and the others whole, ripping them apart piece by piece. She wanted to burn it down. All of it. Everything.

The creature wriggled, it's back arching, vomit bubbling up in its chest. She could feel her arm moving.

The hatchet came down mercilessly into its skull and she kicked it to the ground, taking one more swing to bury the blade in deeper. She hacked into it over and over, hot blood spitting out, splattering her. Her body was weightless, unreal, absent of pain and strain and weakness. Her eyes were flat and distant. She felt as if she wasn't even in her own body.

"You remembered your training. Block the pain out."

Her heart clenched, staying her hand. She turned slow, her chest clenching at the sound of the calm voice.

"Kyuzo."

Noodle stared at him, her shaking breaths evening out. She shook the ax, blood splattering off the blade onto the pavement.

"You're not real, just like the other one. You're a mirage."

He stood there in his white labcoat, his eyes obstructed from behind smoked glasses. But she could feel him looking at her.

"You're perceptive. I never expected you to think otherwise."

"You're just a projection of my mind, right? Like a hologram—nothing there." She turned her back to him, staring down at the creature's limp body. "I must have some reason to need to talk to you, then, if I'm imagining you. Or are you a trick to make me think I'm losing my mind?"

"I don't know."

Her whole body began to shake, pulsing with adrenaline and weak with hunger and exhaustion as the distant, numb feeling began to wane.

"Kyuzo… What was I like, before?"

He blinked.

"You were the most promising. The strongest. The smartest. The perfect outcome. That's why I couldn't let them terminate you."

"If I hadn't been, I would have died, too?"

He said nothing, his hands still folded behind his back.

"I see. That's it, then? I was a thing made to kill."

"Kill, crack codes, assassinate, defend. Trained in every weapon. Trained in every skill to operate in secrecy. We gave you everything you could want. Music, dancing, even flower arranging. We were thorough."

"A geisha with a sword," she scoffed.

"If you want to put it in such a crass way. You are a marvel of science."

"Is that what I am, then? A genetic smear of whatever it is you wanted? Is anything my own? Or was I just programmed?"

"Your genetics were altered, yes, to ensure good eyesight, good hearing, to lay the foundation. But your skills, your training, you succeeded in that where your sisters did not, even those with the same gene sequence. You should be glad for your skills now. Your endurance is the only reason you're still standing."

It was so quiet, so still, that it was almost like standing in an empty room. The fog closed in on all sides, confining, like a box.

"Were the last words ever used on me?"

He stared at her from behind his dark glasses.

"Once. It took five of your fellow soldiers to subdue you. Only one survived. You were merciless. It was… an enlightening experience."

Every nerve in her vibrated, her eyes locked on the ground. She could feel hot tears glazing her eyes.

"Did I ever have to go through something like this?"

"This trying? Yes. Though you weren't burdened with others. Ensuring the survival of your comrades was never a priority. Each soldier had to be able to rely on themselves alone. I have no doubt you could live through this yourself. You were built to endure. However, if you saddle yourself with the lives of the others… I'm not so sure."

"You think I should save myself and leave them behind?"

"It's the logical choice."

Her fingers ran along the smooth handle of the ax, red blisters dotting her palms where she gripped it.

"Yes, it is." She looked up at him from under her hair, slick with blood and sweat. "And I won't."

He stared at her.

"Then at the very least, let him go. He doesn't deserve it."

Noodle's hand clenched, her arm stiffening. She glanced back down at the corpse of the creature, soaked in a pool of its own blood that poured out onto the pavement.

"How am I more deserving? All this blood on my hands… How do I deserve it?"

"You're better than him."

Her grip tightened.

"... Please understand, you are not a daughter to him. To him, you are just another tool to be used. And he's using you for the wrong purpose. Using you like a caged songbird, when really, a place like this is where you belong."

Noodle trembled.

"You're a loaded gun. If only there were someone here to pull the trigger."

She whipped around, her arm swinging back to bring the ax slicing through him. She stopped herself an inch away, all her breath leaving her as her lung seized and her body froze.

The ax clattered to the ground, her arms going limp. Exhaustion buckled her. She fell to her knees, blistered hands grinding into the street. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"R-Russel…"


	11. Flower Crown of Poppy

Noodle stared up at him, unable to move, knees buckling and her entire body vibrating with disbelief and joy.

"Oh my god," he said in his familiar, low voice, kneeling down to lay his palm across her back. "Noodle, what happened to you…"

Her muscles unwound themselves, the rage and fear and guilt that kept her moving finally releasing its grip.

"Found you," she managed, her mouth twisting up in a smile.

She swayed, eyes rolling back, and collapsed into a heap on the pavement, her vision blurring.

Everything faded in and out, brief moments of clarity being swept away with pure exhaustion that robbed all sense of direction and time from her. She could feel herself being carried in Russel's familiar arms, her body slack and drained, everything blurred in the grey haze and the flickering of her eyelids until everything went silent and she passed out.

Consciousness came flooding back to her in a panicked, white snap and her lungs filled with air that stung. She scrambled up on her hands and knees, eyes wide, trying to take everything in as her ears rang.

"Hey, hey, Noods, it's okay."

Her eyes flicked in every direction, skin pricking.

Nothing looked familiar. She hyper-focused on everything, eyes darting around until her brain registered that they were in a bookstore, an old one, every surface coated with grey dust. No one had been here for a long time.

She blinked, desperately trying to wrangle her scrambled brain. It was day. Still? Or had she slept that long? It was impossible to tell in the confining cell of fog that made everything feel the same, look the same. She tried to blink away the haze in her mind.

"Russ… you… where—"

"We're okay for right now. One of the few places I haven't seen those… things."

She leaned back against the shelf, her chest tight with an overflowing mix of the ebbing waves of panic and the overwhelming feeling of relief. It was Russel, it really was. Here, alive, safe. 

But Russel didn't look as relieved as her. He was focused on the dry, dark spot on the side of her shirt, dull red like a dying rose. Her hand flew there on instinct, palm coming down on the tender, blistering flesh that stuck to the fabric underneath.

"I'm fine. I'm alright."

She caught her breath, a tiny smile creasing her lips.

"I'm so glad to see you, Russel. I thought… I was afraid that… We were looking for you, this whole time."

"We?"

"Murdoc and me. We were both looking for you, and 2D—"

"Murdoc?" he snapped. "He's alive?"

She swallowed against her dry throat.

"He was."

"_Was? _"

Her smile was gone. The weeping scrapes on her hands stung as she clenched them up into tight fists.

"Was... Something… took him. Took him right in front of me. I don't know if he's alive or not, now."

She stared down at the raw skin all blistered open on her palms.

The daze of sleep waned and she was left with a shattering, crushing weight of guilt and fear. They were safe inside this small building. But 2D... Murdoc...

"Where were you?" she asked quietly. "What happened? You… left us."

Russel's face softened as he leaned down.

"I didn't mean to leave you there. I'm sorry. After the crash, I... you disappeared."

  
  


When Russel's eyes snapped open, he thought he was dead.

Everything was white. Maybe, he thought, Murdoc had finally killed them all. He figured that's how it would be, someday—he'd pull some particularly stupid shit and they'd all bite the big one.

He could barely turn his neck, groaning, forcing himself to blink the glaze from his eyes and focus his spinning vision. The hood of the car was smashed into the guard rail, and as he twisted to look around he saw Murdoc face-down against the steering wheel, blood dripping down his slack face.

"M-Muds, you son of a bitch…"

He gripped onto the seat, pulling himself around to look into the backseat, his spine screaming.

"Noods', 'D…"

Noodle was crumpled against the seat, her head against her arms, but 2D was nowhere.

It took every ounce of strength to jam himself against the door and bash into it till it finally swung open on its bent hinge. He groaned, pulling himself up, barely able to stand up on the pavement, head spinning, pulses of vertigo making it a struggle to even stay upright.

He clung to the side of the car and circled around to her, pressing his hand to her back.

"Noodle…"

A paralyzing moment of fear made time stand still until he felt her back rise under his palm. She was breathing. He turned her over carefully, looking over her head, her neck... no broken bones, no bleeding that he could see. She wasn't in as bad a shape as Muds.

A sigh of relief left him, his chest stinging as the air rushed out of his lungs.

"D?" he called.

He staggered back, looking all around, straining his stinging eyes to pierce through the thick fog.

The splatter of blood on the pavement caught his eye, like raindrops that lead from the backseat to the treeline, over the guard rail and into the brush.

Russel struggled one leg over, then the other, staggering into the trees.

"D!"

He spied a shock of blue moving in the grey distance. He limped up to 2D, who stood slowly pacing in circles, his head tilted to one side, as if he were listening to something. His nose was smashed in, blood dribbling down his face and into his mouth. But what made Russel stop still were his eyes. They were glossy white, glazed and flat. It made his heart bang fast in his chest. What the hell happened to him?

"... 'D? Can you hear me?" he asked, snapping his fingers in his face.

2D didn't blink.

A concussion, he guessed. Maybe it did something to the blood in his eyes, the old eight-ball fractures. Maybe he couldn't see.

He gripped his hand tight on 2D's shoulder and shook him.

"Come on, hey, let's get back to the car. We'll call an ambulance."

"Can you hear that?" he croaked, his voice thin and reedy.

"Hear what?"

2D slapped his chest to make him shut up. Russel strained his ears, listening hard in the thick fog. He couldn't hear anything. Not a thing. Not a bird, not a car… not anything. His ears must have been ringing from the crash.

"Come on. We need to get back. Noodle's out and Muds… he's really fucked up."

2D pulled out of his grip, backing up.

"So?" he said in a cold voice.

"... What?"

"So _ what _? He's the one who did this," he said, turning around.

Russel stood still, watching him drift away, listening for something that wasn't there. He glanced between the road and 2D wandering listlessly into the woods.

"I'm going back for Noodle. 'D?" His voice grew an edge to it. "D! Come on!"

He didn't turn around, didn't stop. Russel clenched his teeth and hobbled back as fast as he could. He had to make sure Noodle was okay. And Murdoc… might've been past helping. He'd have to wrangle 'D later, he didn't have a choice.

The silence set him on edge, the complete stillness of it all made his skin prickle. It felt like something was watching him from the fog, its eyes following him as he hurried back to the car. Russel shook himself. He must have hit his head, too.

He struggled out from the brush and onto the road and in front of him there was… nothing.

Fear pulsed through him in sheets of cold sweats.

Where the car had been, where the road had been, was a sheer drop into nothingness. Like the highway had just crumbled away. No crash, no blood, nothing at all.

They were gone. And he was alone.

  
  


Noodle stared at her scraped knees, her gut twisting.

"What... happened to 2D?"

He shook his head.

"I don't know. He just disappeared. I didn't know what happened to you, or the car. I figured Muds was dead, or close to it, the way he looked. But that bastard always skids by, don't know why I'm surprised."

Noodle could see his hands shaking, his eyes locked on the floor.

"I thought maybe I'd finally lost it. Maybe none of it was real—the crash, the town… Just a hallucination. Maybe I finally took that last step into madness and this was all just some mirage. I kept seeing grey people, spirits, I don't know, all out in the streets, all just drifting like they didn't see me. Out there, I… I don't know what's real, what's not. I didn't think you were really you, at first."

She shook her head.

"We saw things too. People who couldn't possibly be there. You're not going crazy. It's this place."

He looked up.

"You did?"

She nodded slowly.

"I saw… an old mentor."

"And Muds?" he scoffed.

Noodle's jaw tensed, remembering Murdoc crumpled on the ground, reduced to a shaking mess from just the memory of his father, who immolated himself just to bring his son down with him. She'd never seen him so raw, so afraid.

She shook her head.

"I don't know, he wouldn't tell me."

Russel grunted.

"It's all evil, I can feel it, like a weight pressing down on my soul. The air, the ground, every brick, every rock. It's all wrong. All of it's… sick. Tainted."

Noodle sat up straight as Russel curled in on himself, shaking his head.

"The town's alive, I can hear it... breathing. It can change itself, twist itself. It wants something. I can hear it… talking, if I listen too close. Talking to me. All the time. It's unbearable."

He jumped at the touch of her tiny hand on his shoulder. Russel shook himself, taking in a long breath, trying to force away the whispers he could just barely hear in the silence.

He was shaken, something deep in him that made him uncertain and on edge. Of all of them, it looked like this place had taken the worst toll on him, mentally.

Noodle stared at the ground, guilt weighing down on her harder and harder with every second. They were all still here because she couldn't keep them together. It all fell on her, and she was failing them all. She had to be the strong one when they couldn't be. She had to be the sum of their parts. She had to.

Her hand pressed into the blister on her side, teeth gritting. She had to push past it.

"We have to get Murdoc," she said suddenly. "I… I think I know where he might be."

Russel's eyebrows pulled together tight as he got to his feet.

"Absolutely not. We're getting you out of here."

Her eyes widened, head shaking as she stared at him.

"What?"

His voice regained the resolute edge it had when he put his foot down on something.

"I'm getting you out of here. I'm not letting you spend one more second in this place. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you."

Noodle couldn't believe what she was hearing. She scoffed.

"So you'd let the both of them go so I could leave?"

"Yes."

She blinked, watching his hard face. He let out a long breath.

"I know. I care about 'D, too. And Murdoc… I don't want him to die, at least. But… they're adults. You're more important."

"Why, because you think I'm a child?'

"You _ are _ a child."

Her whole body coiled up tight.

"I'm not. Not with everything that's happened to me."

"Noodle, when we get you out of here—"

"Before this!" she rounded on him. "Russel, I went back home for a _ year _ by myself."

"I know, I never would have let—"

"That's why I left without saying anything. Because I knew you wouldn't let me go."

"Muds would have," he snapped.

"No, he didn't."

His face crumpled up in confusion.

"I told him what I wanted to do, right before he got thrown in jail. He told me he'd lock me up in the studio if he had to, to keep me from going."

Russel shook his head.

"You told _ him _, but not me? Or 'D?"

"Because I already knew what the both of you would say. I thought Murdoc would understand, but he didn't."

"No, he was… trying to protect you," he admitted with a grunt. "Even he's not that much of a bastard."

Noodle clenched her fists.

"I found out something about myself, when I left. I found my old guardian, and he made me remember where I came from. Who I was. Before I was sent to Kong, when I was little… I was part of a secret program. A genetic program, to make child soldiers."

Russel's mouth hung open, stunned into silence. Noodles voice shook as she spoke, her nerves frayed into raw, trembling rage and fear and guilt.

"They… created me. I wasn't even really born, I don't think. I had nine sisters, all made the same way. They trained us, taught us, raised us all together. It sounds like something out of a movie, something unreal. But… it _ was _ real."

Her shoulders tensed.

"They did something to me, something that made me a monster. I killed people. I killed some of the other children." She looked over at him, her fists curled up tight until her knuckles went white. "I don't even remember what they looked like, anymore. I can't remember their faces."

Russel struggled to say something, anything, as her words sunk in. She knew her way around a sword, and she knew how to fight. She was tougher than any man he's ever met. But this… was hard to swallow. But if Noodle said it, then it was true. She didn't lie like that. His heart was breaking for her, seeing that distant look in her eyes. A look he recognized. A look he saw in the mirror when he let his mind wander too much.

"You… didn't know. They… they did something to you, drugged you or forced you or something. You weren't in your right mind."

"No, I was. I was in the exact right mind that they meant for me to have. That's the real me. This," she said, gesturing out into the fog, "this is me. This was what I was built to do."

Her chest rose and fell with quick, trembling breaths that made her side ache. She shook her head.

"This is the kind of place I'm meant for," she muttered. "I'm not a child. I don't think I ever was. I was never supposed to be."

She looked up at him, her face and clothes all streaked with blood, the marks of a girl forced into adulthood through violence no one should have ever known. Her eyes dewed with tears she wouldn't let fall.

"Sometimes, I… I wish I'd never gotten my memory back. Sometimes I wish I didn't know. Maybe I would have been happier. Maybe I could have stayed a child, even if it was just pretend."

Russel was staring at his shoes, every word she said twisting a knife of grief in him. It was painful to listen to her.

Noodle wiped her face with her sleeve, staring down at the ground.

"I'm not leaving. I'm going to go get Murdoc back, and then I'm going to find 2D. And I'm not leaving before then. I'll stay here forever if that's what it takes. I'm not leaving anyone behind to save myself. I can't let that be me. I'm not losing one more person from my actions."

Russel watched her stone face, his heart wrenching. She was right about one thing—she wasn't a little girl anymore. She had been different, ever since she came back. Like she'd aged a decade in a year.

It hurt to see her look so much older behind her eyes. She still had so much time to grow, so much left to experience before the jading weariness of age. But he knew that there were things you saw, things you knew, that changed you into a different person in an instant. Things that robbed you of youthful innocence in one horrifying second. But even with the ghosts behind her eyes, all he could see was the little girl that showed up on their doorstep, as if she'd just come to them yesterday. To him, she was always that way.

"Alright," he said suddenly. "Okay. Where do we start?"

She looked over at him, wary.

"You don't have to follow me."

"I know. Where do we start?"

Noodle felt huge tears slipping down her face in hot bursts, and she ran into him, throwing her arms around him as tight as she could. He squeezed her close, his hand patting her hair that was all thick with dried blood.

She was still a kid, no matter what had happened. And he'd be damned if he let her do this on her own.

She pulled away, rubbing her face red to keep her eyes dry.

"Alright, then let's go. We have a boat to catch."


	12. Underground Dawn

"What are we waiting for?" Russel asked, leaning down.

He spoke in a hushed whisper outside, careful to keep as quiet as possible. A far cry from Murdoc's loud, grating voice.

"When we were out on the lake, I saw a boat; a steamboat. There was something… off about it. Like a ghost."

"How do you know it'll be here?"

"I don't," she said, shaking her head. "But it's the only thing I can think of."

She stared into the brick wall of fog that hung over the water, standing on the end of a dock. They’d found their way back down to the lakeside, and walked the edge of it until they reached a small pier.

Noodle nodded her head toward the water.

"That island… Claudia was there. She has him, I know it. She knew you were here. She knows the town. And she wants Murdoc, alive." She nodded. "He's there. We just need to get there."

"And the boat will take us there?"

She shook her head.

"I don't know, Russel. But there's no other boats. It's the only way. We don't have the time to walk to the other side. I don't even know if we have enough time, now."

"What does she want with him?"

She sat down, cradling her chin in her hands.

"I don't know. I don't know anything. I'm just… I'm just guessing. I don't know what else to do."

"When will it come back?" He glanced down at her and let out a sigh. "We'll wait."

He grunted and sat down next to her, glancing down at the red stain dried into her shirt.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Fine," she lied.

It hurt. It hurt, but she had to swallow it. If she showed her pain he'd make them stop. She was good at hiding things, anyway, though his earnest, concerned look didn't make her feel good about it.

"What about you? Did you get hurt?"

He looked down at his hands.

"All I've seen is those grey ghosts. Nothing like what you described. They haven't touched me, they just… talk. Always talking," he spat the last few words. "I'm sorry. If I had found you sooner, you might've been fine."

She shook her head.

"This place, it's… different for different people, I think. If you had found me sooner, you might've gotten hurt, too." She rested her chin on her knees. "I can only imagine what 2D is seeing."

His hand came down to rest on her back, his warm voice soothing her just a little.

"We'll find him. It'll be okay."

He became quiet and patted her arm.

"Noodle."

Out from the fog, a large shadow began to emerge, floating silently along.

The steamboat—_The Little Baroness. _

It drifted noiselessly, steam billowing out from the smokestack, moving slow and steady towards the dock. Even with the paddlewheel churning the water, it made little more than a whisper, as if it wasn't even there at all. It turned, and pulled alongside the dock, groaning to a stop, the paddlewheel dripping as it came to rest.

The gentle waves of the green lake lapped at the hull, making a slapping, sucking sound in the silence. Russel’s hand came down on her shoulder as she started to move forward.

“Noods,” he said in a low voice. “You don’t have to do this.”

She turned, giving him a long look. There was no fear in her eyes, no apprehension. Her small smile unnerved him.

“You know we do.”

“I said _ you _ don’t."

"I do."

A long sigh left him.

"Alright. Are you sure about this?"

She glanced back at the ship.

"No," she admitted.

He nodded.

"Alright."

With a long exhale, she gripped the railing and jumped onto the deck, with Russel following close behind.

"It looks empty," he said, peering into the cabin.

Noodle walked the length of the deck to the bow, looking up into the control room window—nobody.

"I think… I think it's steering itself."

The boat lurched, steam belching out from the smokestack as it pulled away from the dock.

"It's taking us."

"Is it taking us somewhere we want to go?" he scoffed.

She didn't answer.

The dock slipped out of view and the fog closed around them, an impenetrable cage of mist, as the boat slid along the water like a huge snake. 

Noodle stood at the bow, watching the nose of the ship cut through the green water, noiselessly gliding like scissors sliding through paper. Her hand drew to her side, the burned flesh stinging at the touch. Her jaw set hard.

Whatever Claudia wanted with him, she had to stop her. At any cost.

“Russel, when we get there, I don’t know what will be waiting for us. We have to find him as quickly as possible.”

He said nothing. Noodle turned, looking over her shoulder at him. His eyes were locked onto the deck, head shaking.

“Russel?”

"No, no, no," he muttered, pressing his hands to his face. "They're not real. Not real."

She came closer, looking around. There was no one.

"What is it?"

He glanced around anxiously, his hands shaking against his forehead.

"Nothing. They're not real. They never are. They're not here."

She reached up, pulling his hands away.

"What do you see, Russ?"

He grit his teeth hard, staring past her.

Dozens of grey, faceless figures drifted around them, echoes that moved around them silently, as if placed out of time, like a double-exposed film. Russel blinked and tried to will them away. It was hard to tell if he was the illusion, or them, as they began to whisper in hushed voices.

His eyes shot up to her, focused and intense.

"They’re not real. I know they’re not. It’s… it’s fine.”

"_Russel. _"

His jaw tightened.

"No," he muttered. "I'm not listening."

Four grey figures were leaning over him.

"_Russel… aren't you tired? Aren't you tired, Russel? _"

"You're not here."

"_We're always here, Russel. All of us. _"

Their faces changed, morphing into the familiar faces that haunted him—the faces of his friends, paled and stretched and thin with death.

"Don't you dare put their faces on," he spat.

Noodle's eyes darted around, looking for something, anything.

He clenched his eyes shut, their voices overlapping in an overwhelming cacophony.

"_Aren't you tired? Go to sleep, Russel. Russel, go to sleep. _"

She knelt down, clutching his shoulders as he fell to his knees.

"Russ, it's okay. It's alright, there's nothing there."

His eyes cracked open. The figures bent down over both of them, a clawed hand curling around Noodle's shoulder.

"_Go to sleep. _"

  
  


Her heavy eyelids cracked open, blue light blinding her a moment as she stirred—the light of the TV. Russel was beside her on the couch, sound asleep, his head resting in his hand.

She remembered, as her memory slowly started coming back to her, the three of them had fallen asleep watching some zombie movie 2D had picked out. But 2D was gone. The DVD menu played on loop on the screen.

She carefully got to her feet, stepping over the up-turned bowl of popcorn that spilled onto the floor, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes. She was so tired.

Dim, grey light glowed from the hallway windows. She pressed her face up against the glass. It was snowing.

"Past your bedtime, ain't it, kid?"

She turned around, looking up at Murdoc, his jacket dusted with fresh snowflakes.

"今何時ですか?"

He glanced down at his watch.

"It's midnight. Go to bed."

Something was wrong. Panic bit at her.

She reached out to grab his jacket as he turned to leave, afraid to be left alone.

"What?"

She didn't know what. But she didn't want to be by herself. Noodle held her arms out. He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth.

"Christ, you want me to carry you? You're not a baby, you know?"

He stared down at her expectant face and groaned, relenting.

"Fine. But this is the last time, got it? You're ten, you're gonna be too big for that, soon. You'll break my spine."

She nodded. He bent down so she could clamor up onto his back, gripping his coat.

"Ack, watch the hair!"

She rested her chin on his shoulder, feeling her panic ease. He smelled like night air and smoke, familiar and comforting. She brushed the snow from his shoulders.

Not snow, she realized as it left a dusty, chalky residue on her fingertips. Ash.

Russel blinked, rubbing his eyes.

Was it over?

He twisted, looking down to find Noodle and D were both gone. He always had the tendency to fall asleep halfway through whatever movie they were watching.

He pulled himself up, rubbing his face, and shut the TV off, trudging out into the hall to drag himself to bed.

He stopped cold.

A figure stood at the end of the hall, all cast in shadow. But he didn't need to see his face. He could sense who it was.

"Del…"

"You got rid of me."

His familiar voice was rough, with an edge that shocked him. Russel's chest clenched tight.

"I… I didn't. I didn't on purpose. It wasn't me. You got ripped out of me. Del, please."

"There's nothing here," he snapped. "When you get exorcised, there's nothing. Just darkness. And you put me here. You put all of us here."

He took a hesitant step forward.

"You know I never would have done that. I care about you, about all of you."

Del's glossy white eyes glinted in the dark.

"What are you without us? Just a broken, empty man with nothing underneath."

Russel shook his head.

"This isn't you. You're not like this, Del."

A chorus of voices forced his hands to clap over his ears.

"You're nothing."

"Nothing."

"You're nothing Russel."

"You left us."

"Russel."

"Nothing."

"_Stop! _" he shouted, nails digging into his skin. "You're not Del! Get out of my head! Get out!"

Noodle held tight around Murdoc's shoulders. The click of his heels lulled her eyes closed as he carried her toward her room. But as he struggled to open the door, she perked up.

"You ready?"

She nodded, laughing.

He walked up to the end of her bed and reached back, grabbing her under the arms and bent down, flinging her down onto the mattress with Murdoc making a loud explosion sound. She landed on her back with a loud _ flop _ and a giggle.

"Alright, now leave old Muds alone and go to sleep," he muttered as she crawled under the covers.

She watched him walk to the door and flick off the light, then stared at the covers clenched up in her hands. She was so tired.

"Noodle."

She looked up, her mouth falling open.

"やめる!"

His switchblade was clutched in his fist, and without a word, he slammed the blade into his chest.

Her ears were ringing. She couldn't move.

He stared at her, unflinching. Bright red blood bubbled up from under his shirt, dripping down his chest. It dribbled out of his mouth as he spoke.

"This is your fault."

"Murdoc!"

"Go to sleep," he said before slipping out, leaving her alone in the dark.

She got to her feet and ran to the door, pulling it open.

Murdoc was gone.

There was no hallway, but a vast expanse of dark water that stretched on forever. She gripped tight to the doorknob. It was snowing.

No. Not snow. Ash.

Noodle opened her mouth to speak and nothing came out, her feet perched on the edge of the doorway, staring down at the water below.

"_Noodle_," she heard a distant, quiet voice call.

It was 2D.

She opened her mouth to yell back, but her voice came out a little croak.

_Please, somebody, help me. Anybody._

"_Noodle_," he said again, echoing from somewhere.

She couldn't see him. She leaned forward, squinting in the dark.

"_Noodle. _"

"Noodle!"

She blinked, her vision clearing as she felt herself starting to fall, shoes slipping against the metal railing.

Russel grabbed her up by the back of her shirt, tugging hard to pull her off the side of the boat. She gripped onto his arm to steady herself, her heart pounding in her ears, eyes wide and mind racing to collect herself.

It wasn't real.

"Noodle?"

"I-I'm fine, I'm…"

She shuddered, knees quaking. She felt as if she was going to throw up.

"The ghosts—"

"They're gone," he said. "They're gone. For now."

She clutched her chest, panting, bullets of cold sweats pouring off her.

The boat made the first sound she'd ever heard from it—its horn bellowed, vibrating in her ears, deafening in the pindrop silence. It was announcing their arrival.

She grasped onto Russel's shirt and pulled herself up, scrambling to grab the hatchet laying on the deck. Vertigo made her stumble, and she ran the back of her hand across her forehead.

“We're here,” she muttered, her ears echoing with the low note that died out over the water.

The boat was drifting, the paddlewheel slowing to a stop as they drifted towards the island that emerged from the fog, the steeple of the church reaching up above the scraggly pines clinging to the rocks. There was a rowboat lashed to the dockside, bobbing in the current kicked up by the _Baroness_.

“She’s here. She has to be.”

They leaped from the side, down onto the dock, and Russel had to hurry along behind her to keep up, Noodle nearly running up the muddy path with the hatchet clutched in her fist.

“Noodle!” he called in a loud whisper. “Don’t just run in! Noods!”

She could barely hear him over the sound of her own heartbeat rushing in her ears. She was so close.

The yellow sandstone of the church almost glowed against the greyness of the sky, growing more and more imposing as they grew near. "_Church of the Rebirth _" it read in stone above the archway, and carved into the dark wood of the doors was a message:

“_This door is the gate which leads to the Road to Paradise. Embrace the bosom of the Holy Mother. Admit your sins and be forgiven. Eternal tranquility can be yours._”

A low groan echoed through the building as the doors swung open.

A dimly-lit chapel, all hewn in dark wood, with a tall arched ceiling. The stained glass windows cut jagged, red shapes of light across the floor as they entered, both glancing around warily, their skin prickling. Russel’s eyes ran over the vacant pews.

"There's… nothing here. It's empty."

She walked past him, straight down the aisle, toward the altar.

"No," she muttered, shaking her head quickly. "No. The boat at the dock… Claudia is here. I _ know _ she is."

He walked to the end of the room, rattling the knob of a door that refused to open.

Noodle felt like the church was alive, watching them. The walls were hung with bolts of long, red cloth, and dotted with paintings of people in prayer, or their faces buried in their hands in suffering. She could feel their eyes on her.

Above the altar were three tall stained glass windows, one with the image of a man on the right clutching the wriggling form of a snake, and on the left, the image of a woman holding a reed. In the center window stood a female figure with her face shrouded in a crimson cloth, rays of sunlight beaming off of her body. Their painted eyes stared down at Noodle, light glowing in through the colored glass from the faded sky outside.

The altar was laid out in preparation for worship, with long, red candles whose wicks danced with tiny flames, wax melting down the shafts like thick blood. Her hands ran over the clean, white cloth covering the altar embroidered with strange symbols, and stopped at the edge of a book laid open in the center, its pages yellowed and faded with age, bound with red leather. It was opened to a page marked with a ribbon.

“_Speak. _

_ I am the Crimson One. _

_ The lies and the mist are _

_ not they, but I. _

_ Believers hearken to me! _

_ Twenty score men and _

_ seven thousand beasts. _

_ Heed my words and speaketh them _

_ to all, that they shall ever be _

_ obeyed even under the light of _

_ the proud and merciless sun. _

_ I shall bring down bitter vengeance _

_ upon thee and thou shalt suffer _

_ my eternal wrath. _

_ The beauty of the withering flower _

_ and the last struggles of the dying _

_ man, they are my blessings. _

_ Thou shalt ever call upon me and _

_ all that is me in the place that is _

_ silent. _

_ Oh, proud fragrance of life which _

_ flies towards the heart. Oh, cup _

_ which brims with the whitest of _

_ wine, it is in thee that all begins. _

_-The Word of the Red God, Xuchilbara._”

Xuchilbara.

Noodle ran her fingers over the page, eyes darting over the words over and over.

What did _any _of this have to do with Murdoc?

She glanced down at a dark wooden box that rested beside the book, and lifted the lid carefully, peering inside. Nestled in the velvet lining was a small vial of red liquid that gleamed iridescent as she plucked it out from the box.

“What the hell is this?” she muttered, tilting the vial as the thick liquid ran viscously down the inside.

It didn’t look like blood. It was too thick, too red. Like a liquified ruby.

“Shouldn’t touch that,” Russel said, eyeing it warily as he passed. “Who knows what the hell’s in it. Leave it be.”

She watched him walk over to the other door trying the knob.

Noodle stepped around the altar, looking up at the large painting that hung on the wall, a painting of the woman draped in red cloth, with the man and woman at her feet, arms thrown up in worship.

Her jaw tightened. Their god, she assumed.

A breath of hot air ran over her face, sending pins and needles through her skin.

She leaned in, feeling along the surface of the painting, her finger slipping into a tiny hole in the canvas. A warm breeze was leaking through. She touched along the edge of the frame, fingers trying to reach underneath. It was sealed to the wall.

"Russel," she said quietly. "I think there's something behind this."

He came up beside her and felt along the embossed gold frame, his finger running over a small keyhole.

"It unlocks."

Noodle clicked her tongue

"We don't have time for that."

The blade of the hatchet sunk into the canvas, and slit a long cut down the middle. She ripped it open, tearing the painting out of its frame with a frustrated grunt, tossing it aside.

Behind the religious scene was a freight elevator, all wrought in black iron, and from the shaft, hot air billowed up that smelled like fire.

"This is it."

Russel gripped the grate from the bottom and lifted up, the door opening with a deafening screech.

His eyes slid down to her.

"Are you sure about this?"

"It's the only way," she said with a flat voice, stepping into the elevator.

He hesitated, then got in after her, the grate snapping shut behind them. Noodle pulled the lever, and the elevator made its slow, creaking descent. Red flashes of light cut her face in an eerie shadow as it rattled downward.

"Noods," he said in a quiet voice. "Do you know what we're walking into?"

She stared straight ahead, her tone even and emotionless.

"I'll kill any monster we come across. I'll kill every single one in this town if I have to. We'll find Murdoc, and I'll get Claudia to tell us where 2D is, however I have to." Noodle looked up at him, sending a chill down his spine. "Either we all walk out of this town together, or I'm not going to at all."

"Noodle…"

The elevator ground to a shrieking halt, the gears opening the door with a low groan.

"Our stop, I guess," he mumbled.

She stepped out into the dim hallway, the floor beneath them a metal grate that made a loud sound as they walked across it, and below, a darkness that belched hot air, like it was breathing.

At the end of the hallway was a heavy-looking door. The only way forward.

Russel approached it carefully, wrapping his hand around the knob and rattled it, leaning into the door. It wouldn’t budge.

He pressed his ear to it, listening carefully, but he couldn’t hear anything in the heavy, pulsing silence.

“There’s got to be a key or something. Maybe in the room, upstairs, or… maybe this isn’t the right place.”

“It’s the right place, “ she asserted.

He trailed off, his hand pressed against the wood. It was too solid to break down.

Noodle’s eyes rested on a vent grate on the floor.

"That's the only other opening. This place is underground, all the rooms have to have ventilation. It's got to connect somewhere."

She crouched onto her hands and knees, sizing it up.

"I can fit."

His eyes shot down to her.

"Absolutely not. You're not going in there."

"I am," she snapped, then her face softened. "Russel, please. You have to trust me."

"It's not that! Noodle, if something happens to you, I… I'll never forgive myself."

Her frustration melted into guilt, and she got to her feet, looking up at the man.

"I know. But I'd never forgive _ myself _ if I didn't do everything I could."

A long sigh blew out his nose.

"I know. I just don't want to lose you."

Her arms wrapped around him, holding him as tight as she could.

"You won't. I'll be okay."

His hands rested on her shoulders, and she felt him take a huge, shuddering breath.

"Promise you won't do anything. Just look and come back."

She gave a short nod and pulled away. Before Russel could change his mind, she pulled the grate off with one strong pull, and crawled into the vent, disappearing into the darkness.


	13. Ordinary Vanity

The duct was small, only wide enough for her to shimmy forward on her hands and knees, and a humid, burning wind swept through it that smelled like copper and made sweat bead at the back of her neck.

She squinted into the darkness out of every grate, desperate to see something, anything that would point her in the right direction. She could hear talking echoing in the duct, but she couldn’t tell where it was coming from, or from how far away.

But then there was another sound, another voice, quieter, like a whisper. She glanced up at a small grated opening above her, straining her ear, unable to tell what it was saying until she heard, “Shut up.”

Her brain snapped, and she pressed her face up against the vent, fingers grasping onto the metal.

“2D?!”

The voice stopped, and she heard shuffling. Out of the darkness, she saw a familiar face appear. Her excited grin faded into a stunned gape. His coal-black eyes were two milky-white moons in the shadows.

“2D…”

“Noodle, is that you?”

She reached her fingers up through the bars in the vent, reaching out for him. He opened his palm to her and a relieved little laugh left her as she touched him. He was real.

“I can’t believe it, you’re really here,” she said, trembling with excitement and fear. “How did you get here? Did Claudia take you?”

He blinked.

“The woman?”

“Yes, the woman with the white hair.”

“Yeah, she brought me here. She’s real nice.”

Noodle drew her hand back.

“_Nice_?”

“She brought me here, out of that hellhole. She said she was going to bring you all here, to help us.”

Noodle shook her head, eyes wide.

“No… No, 2D, she’s not here to help us. We all need to leave, _ now_.”

His face wrinkled up.

“Why? Have you seen it out there?”

She clenched her hands around the bars, staring up at him, her chest shuddering with nervous little breaths.

“What did she do to you? 2D, you know this isn't right.” She leaned up on her tiptoes to get closer. “It’s not safe here. Russel is outside. We have to find Murdoc and get out!”

2D’s face fell in the darkness and he drew back.

“Murdoc.”

“Is he here? Have you seen him?”

He didn’t say anything, just stared at the floor.

The forest seemed endless as he trudged forward. The sound pulled him, called to him, forced him to follow. A low, droning sound that grew higher and sharper and louder as he walked through the trees, leaving the car far behind. He knew he shouldn't have left, but he couldn't help it. He knew the rest of them could have been hurt. He knew they needed his help. But the urgency felt distant, those thoughts trapped in his brain, unable to rise up to the surface. It was like his body was moving on its own, like he was hypnotized.

Out of the trees and the fog, he crossed onto a road—an intersection that led into a little grey town. It was coming from there.

The sound was unbearable. It made his skin itch. But he couldn't turn away.

Movement behind him caught his eye, and he whipped around, his jaw hanging open.

Little speakers, on owl's wings and feet, vibrated and twitched on the ground, buzzing a low frequency that warbled painfully in his ears. He grit his teeth. They trembled and bellowed out that hideous sound.

"Stop," he said weakly, not understanding what he was seeing.

Was this a dream? A hallucination?

He turned, more of them gathering behind him, screeching a high-pitched wail. Both sounds rang his eardrums and made his skull throb until he clapped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut tight.

"Stop!"

His foot rose and fell on its own in desperation as his stomach turned and the taste of blood welled up in his mouth, smashing down on one of the little creatures. Its wooden body splintered apart under his foot, and he could feel it's wings and legs crunch, dark red blood seeping out in a puddle. It twitched, letting out a shrill note, then sputtered into silence. The feeling of it crunching under him made 2D feel like he was going to throw up, regret filling him.

The rest of the little creatures beeped and buzzed and swarmed around his feet, their cacophony growing louder.

He grit his teeth and stepped over them, taking off in a panicked run as they tottered along behind him. He cut down an alleyway and scaled his way over a chain link gate, dropping down on the other side, his shoes slapping loud against the pavement. The sound started growing fainter as he ran and he turned, seeing the things flapping their wings and buzzing, unable to get over the fence.

He didn't stop until they were out of sight, and the only sound left was the ringing in his ears.

The alleyway opened up into the center of town, all grey and still in the fog. A ghost town, it looked like. All the shop windows were covered in newspaper, a thin layer of undisturbed ash coating the street like snow. And everything was quiet.

Except the quiet rumbling of an engine.

Just on the edge of the mist, a car idled, headlamps beaming against the fog. He squinted straining his eyes to make it out though the glare—the Pontiac.

"M-Murdoc?"

The car sat, remaining still. Its hood was intact, no sign that the crash had even happened at all. He wondered, for a second, if he'd hit his head so hard that he was hallucinating.

"Murdoc? Is that you?"

The engine revved, and trembles of fear shook him. He was rooted to the spot.

The tires screeched against the pavement, kicking up gravel as the Pontiac ripped toward him, barrelling at top-speed.

His legs moved for him, and before he could even gather his thoughts, he threw himself onto the sidewalk, diving out of the way as the car blazed past, scrambling up on his hands as knees as it plowed into the storefront window of the building behind him, sending a rain of glass shattering all over the ground in a deafening crunch.

His heart banged in his chest as he crawled backward, staring at the wreck, smoke rising from the smashed-in hood.

He shakily got to his feet, glass breaking under his sneakers as he carefully stepped toward the crash.

"Murdoc?" he called, unsure if he wanted a reply.

The Pontiac sat wedged into the storefront, steaming and creaking as he nervously peered into the window, his entire body trembling with terror and adrenaline.

It was empty—no Murdoc, no driver at all.

He didn't know whether he was relieved or horrified.

He backed away from the corpse of the car, his eyes locked on it, terrified it would rumble back to life and pull its way out of the window to run him over. His skull throbbed as he watched it carefully.

"Dents," a hoarse voice came from behind.

2D froze, his body stiff and unwilling to turn around. He knew that tone. He hadn't called him that name in years, and it made his skin prickle.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," the man snarled.

He couldn't make himself look, swallowing against his dry throat. His head was pounding. It felt like his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets, the pressure was so unbearable.

"M-Murdoc, what is this? Where are we?"

Murdoc's sharp nails dug in as he grabbed onto his shoulder, ripping 2D around to face him. He expected him to be bloody, banged up from the crash, but he looked… fine. Better than fine, he looked younger, the dark circles under his eyes a little lighter, hair a little blacker, clothes a little sloppier. He looked like he did when they met.

2D shook his head.

"What's… I don't understand."

"Of course you don't," Murdoc spat. "You don't understand anything. I don't keep you around to think, Dents."

He snatched 2D's face, squeezing his cheeks in his hand, nails biting in. He grunted, spine bending to bring him down to the bassist's eye level.

"Don't you worry your pretty, stupid head about it. You just listen to me, got it?"

2D nodded numbly. His head was splitting in half. Murdoc let go, shoving him back.

"We need to find a drummer," he said, turning on his heel, boots clacking against the pavement.

2D blinked, following along behind, not wanting to be left alone.

"You mean Russel?"

Murdoc shot him a strange glare over his shoulder.

"How'd you know?"

"He… he's been our drummer for years, Muds."

He scoffed.

"I must've knocked out more brains than I thought. You're downright mad. We're gonna go, er… pick him up."

"You know where he is?"

"More or less. We'll grab him up and then all we'll need is a guitarist. That girlfriend of yours might do," he added with a cruel little chuckle.

2D's blood froze and he stopped following. Murdoc turned, his lips curling into a scowl.

"Oi, Dents, keep up. I'm not waiting on you."

"Don't talk about Paula," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that? Can't hear your mumbling."

"Don't talk about Paula," he said louder, looking him in the eye. "I don't want to hear it."

Murdoc grit his teeth, taking long strides toward him.

"Since when do you tell _ me _ what to do?"

2D stared down at him, his temper boiling.

"I've let it go for the band, I've shut up about it, but I don't want to hear one _ word _about her from you. Leave it."

Murdoc snatched him by the collar, tugging him roughly toward his face.

"What, you think I'm sweet on that little slut of yours? Ha! You can keep her, she's nothing to look at. But I'll talk about whatever I want, you got that? You're not in charge, here."

"You're not in charge, either."

The color drained from Murdoc's face, his mouth falling open.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

2D couldn't keep his trembling rage from rising.

"You're not in charge," he repeated. "Not of me, not of the band, nothing. Get real, Muds. All you've got is that bloated ego. Past that, what are you? A sad little man. I was happy when Russ busted your nose."

Murdoc looked like 2D had reached out and slapped him, too stunned for words.

"If you stopped acting like this maybe we could've been friends, but you fuck up everything. Fine one second, then act like a big shit then next," he snapped. "You're the one that doesn't understand."

Murdoc yanked his collar hard, nearly pulling him off his feet.

"I'm gonna knock out that other fucking tooth of yours, Dents. You're gonna look like a fucking jack-o'-lantern when I'm done with you."

2D shut his eyes tight, bracing himself for his fist to connect. But the blow never came.

His eyes cracked open nervously, and Murdoc was gone, disappeared into thin air, like he'd never been there at all. A mirage? Was he going insane?

A shuddering sigh slipped out of him and he cradled his pounding head in his hands, kneeling down on the street.

“Child.”

His head snapped up.

A woman stood over him, her silver hair glowing in the diffused light. She leaned down, her long robe billowing out around her as her fingers reached out to gently stroke his face. He shook, unable to move.

“Poor thing,” she said in a smooth voice. “I can see you’re in terrible pain. Here.”

She produced a glass vial from her pocket, holding it out to him. It was full of some white liquid, iridescent and opaque.

“What… what is that?” he asked, his voice hoarse and thin.

She gave him a smile, but it had no warmth behind it.

“It’s medicine. It will ease your pain.”

He watched her suspiciously, leaning back.

“What is this place?”

Her pale green eyes focused on him, unblinking. It made him uneasy.

“This place? It’s Heaven.”

He felt his heart bang hard in his chest.

“Am I… I’m dead?”

“No, not dead.”

A sigh of relief shot through his nose, and he glanced around.

“Where are Noodle and Russel?”

“Your friends?” she asked in a mild voice. “A man and a girl?

“Y-yeah. Have you seen them?"

"Yes, they're safe."

His eye slipped closed and he pressed a hand to his throbbing skull. The pain was unbearable.

She held the vial out.

"Here, take it."

"I don't… I don't know…"

His head was yanked back by a hand he couldn't see, fingers scratching his scalp as they pulled him by the hair. He yelled, grasping the wrist of the person behind him. Panic surged through him.

The woman stood up, hovering over him. She grabbed his jaws, forcing his mouth open.

"Don't struggle. It'll all be over soon," she said in a smooth, even voice, uncorking the vial.

  
  


2D stared down at Noodle through the grate, his mind too hazy to focus.

“_She’s lying. She’s not real, just like the other one. Just an illusion._”

"Be quiet," he snapped.

For a second, she recoiled, pulling away. But she realized, slowly, that he wasn't looking at her. He was talking to someone else. Someone she couldn't see.

"2D? Who are you talking to?"

His eyes shot back to her, then lowered as he squeezed himself tighter.

"Stuart, please," she asked in a soft voice.

His stare at the floor didn't waver, his eyes full and white.

"Leave me alone," he whispered. "I want to be alone."

"Murdoc is still missing, we have to find him."

He scoffed, his eyes still locked on the floor.

"Murdoc. He can rot in hell, I don't care. An' Russ can take care of hisself."

Her mouth fell open, desperate to find something to say to make him come with her. He turned away and she craned her neck, pressing her face against the grate to look at him.

"Just go."

Noodle glanced from him to the divide in the vent ahead, anxiety welling in her. She looked up at him, chest clenching.

"I'm coming back for you. Stay here, don't go anywhere."

He didn't answer, turning away to face the wall. She gave him one last, long look, and pulled away.

If she could find Murdoc, she knew he'd be able to make 2D come with them, force him to, as much as it made her feel guilty for setting the older man on him. This time, at least, his bullying would help more than hurt.

2D stared at the wall, tucking his chin between his knees. He could feel her watching him.

“_Just as weak as ever, huh, Stupot_?”

“Stop,” he hissed.

Her red lips curled up over crooked teeth, and he could feel her cruel smile without seeing it. He could hear it in her voice.

“_Even she’s more concerned about Muds than you. You’re always going to be in his shadow, because you’re too stupid to stand on your own_.”

He clapped his hands to his ears, gritting his teeth.

“Shut up!”

His voice echoed down the vent, and Noodle stopped, resisting the urge to turn around.

“I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

The sound of someone speaking grew louder as she continued on, too distant at first to understand, but became clearer as she hurried forward. The shadow of someone passed through the light peeking into the duct from a vent up ahead, and she crawled toward it.

Noodle got down low on her hands and peered through the grate, breathing as quietly as she could. The air vent was floor-level, larger than the last, a barred opening into a dim room lit with braziers. A large, raised stone dais sat in the center of the room, and on the dais, a man knelt slumped over on his knees, his head hanging down. She couldn’t see his face, but he was tethered by the neck by a long chain fastened to the center of the platform. She squinted, leaning forward. Robed men surrounded the edges of the room, silent, watching. Noodle shot back as a figure passed in front of the vent, stepping up onto the dais where the man sat. It was the white-haired woman, Claudia.

"Xuchilbara has returned to us, to help us usher in the Holy Mother. The Red God will open the gate with his spear and bring forth the angel Valtiel to retrieve Alessa. And when Alessa returns, Paradise will open to us."

The man stirred and lifted his head. She pressed herself to the grate. It was Murdoc.

Claudia grabbed him by the hair, craning his neck up to look at her.

"Don't worry. You won't be shackled inside that body for long."

He spat in her face.

She let him go, wiping her cheek with the long edge of her sleeve, barely phased.

"Keep up the childish struggling all you'd like. It matters not. Yalbura searches for the girl as we speak. She will bring her here, and when you spill the girl's blood, the messenger angel Valtiel will come forth to us from Heaven from her corpse."

Noodle's mouth went dry. Murdoc's head rolled to one side. She could hear his labored breathing from across the room.

"You're… out of… your goddamn mind. Noodle's… _ loooong _ gone, she's not stupid.”

Claudia clicked her tongue, shaking her head.

"It's only a matter of time before she's found."

"Then you don't know her… like I do."

She turned her back, stepping off the dais toward a brazier that flickered with flame. Claudia approached it, putting her hand around something just out of Noodle’s view.

“Tell me, vessel, how tolerant are you of pain?”

He shuffled back. Noodle could see the fear in his eyes even from the vent. She grabbed onto the bars, pulling herself close to the opening, straining to see what Claudia had in her hand. She held aloft a long iron rod, and at the end was a circular brand, glowing red hot.

“I would try your best to stay still. If you move, I’ll have to do it again.”

His boots scratched against the floor, struggling backward as sweat poured from him. Waves of heat pulsed off the iron brand, bathing him in fear.

Noodle grabbed the vent grate and pushed on it hard, trying to force the rusted thing open. It screeched on old screws but refused to budge. Murdoc’s voice drowned out the rattling as he went to stand.

“Stay the fuck away from me!”

Two of the men grabbed him by the arms, forcing him to his knees. One grabbed a handful of hair and forced his neck back as another tore the collar of his shirt open, exposing his chest to the iron that sizzled red in the woman's delicate hand. He struggled, his breath hissing through his sharp teeth as he wriggled helplessly in their grip. Claudia's slender fingers slipped his pendant over his shoulder, her nails dragging over his bare chest.

"Hold still."

Noodle clapped her hands to her ears, burying her face into her knees. His scream made vomit bubble in the back of her throat. She stifled herself, shaking her head. There was nothing she could do and it killed her.

He trembled on the ground, breathless and agape, his wet skin blistered and raw. His lungs refused air, every muscle seizing rigid as he fought for consciousness. Claudia handed off the iron.

"This seal will bring Xuchilbara closer through the veil, bringing with him his righteous bloodlust. You will cease to exist, soon. And once you have killed the girl, there will only be the Red God."

His weak, gasping voice made Noodle shudder with fear. His face scraped along the stone as he struggled to look up at Claudia.

"I… won't…"

"You will. You won't have a choice."

The men followed as she walked to the door on the far end of the room, her bare feet padding soundlessly over the floor, leaving Murdoc to crumple into a heap, moaning in shuddering pain.

She listened and watched until she was sure they were all gone.

She couldn't wait anymore.

Noodle braced herself against the side of the vent and kicked the grate with both feet again and again until it burst off, clattering onto the floor.

Murdoc struggled to get to his feet and stumbled back onto his knees hard.

“Who’s… there…” he groaned.

Noodle pressed her fingers to her lips, creeping toward the dais. Her head whipped around, looking for others. They were alone.

“It’s me,” she said in a low voice. “I’m going to cut the chain.”

“Noods… ah… a little late… Rescue would have been nice… before… I got barbequed…”

He lifted himself up to his knees, blinking his eyes into focus through the blinding pain that seared his skin. But as he turned to look right at her, a jolt shot through him like lightning. He muffled a scream, his jaw clenched so tight it felt as if he'd break his teeth. Every movement set his skin on fire and knocked the breath from him. The brand on his chest was a sickening red blister against his tan skin, spotting up with pus as he moved—a crimson circle with three smaller circles in the center that formed a triangle.

She stepped up onto the dais, hurrying to him with the ax clenched tight in her fist.

“Murdoc?”

A nauseating wave of deep anger flashed through him. Uncontrollable thoughts infested him, thoughts that weren’t his own. Thoughts that sent him screaming. When he laid his eyes on her all he wanted to do was slip that ax from her hand and bury it in her skull.

He backed up on his hands and retreated as far back as the chain would allow, choking himself on the end of the tether, desperate to keep her away.

"Goddamn it, get out!"

"I'm not just leaving you here!"

"You're going to. If you get any closer… She did something..." He growled, pulling against the collar. "Just get the fuck away from me!"

She rose her hand up, palm out, the ax tight in her other fist.

"I'm not going to leave without you. I found 2D and Russel, and we're all leaving together."

Murdoc squeezed his eyes shut tight, sinking his nails into his skull. He shook his head, a low growl rumbling in his throat. The overwhelming, pulsing urge to wrap the chain around her neck and choke the life from her sickened him so deeply he thought he would vomit. His insides crawled like maggots and every inch of him was on fire.

“Do _ not _ let me out, you understand me?!”

“Just shut up!”

"Noods, don't!"

His mind raced, body shaking with restraint as she took up the ax in her hands, raising it to strike at the chain. 

Murdoc’s eyes flashed open.

"_The Still Sea at Twilight!_"

He never thought he would have to use it.

After Noodle disappeared that year, her entire aura was different, he could sense it. When she opened her mouth the first time they saw each other again, she spoke in perfect English. He nearly had to pick his jaw up from the floor.

She’d discovered secrets about herself, she said. Terrible things. Impossible things. She told him stories of child super-soldiers, human weapons of mass destruction, and the decommissioning of a secret army. If it had been anyone else, he would have called bullshit and never believed a word. But it was Noodle, and he took her seriously on merit.

After a long moment of silence, she told him something else. Something that shook him. Secret activation passwords: one to wipe her memory, one to make her remember, and one to turn her into a destructive force beyond control. Words that had complete control over her mind. And even though her voice was even and calm, he could see the fear in her eyes.

She had the phrases written down by the Doctor on a scrap of paper, folded up. She slid it over and stared at him.

"You're the only one that knows."

He looked down at it, trying desperately to absorb everything she'd said.

"...Why are you giving this to me?"

Even he could admit, giving him that kind of trust was ill-advised. The stoic look on her face could have shot a bullet through him. She spoke to him in a cold voice.

"Russel and 2D would never use them. They wouldn't want to do that to me. You might, if it's a matter of life and death. I need your indifference, your objectivity."

He'd disappeared into his trailer for three days afterward, pacing. He memorized the words, muttering them in isolation to himself.

_Ocean bacon._

_The still sea at twilight._

And...

He recited them in his mind every time he looked at her for weeks. It became embedded in him. He read them over and over again, grappling with himself, wondering if he should pass the buck onto Russel instead. Surely he was the more responsible one. She'd put his finger on the detonator of a nuclear bomb, and it drove him mad.

He was angry at first. How could she do that to him? Dangle that information, then force him to act like nothing was different? To keep it all a secret? How was he supposed to look at her and not see a sleeper cell waiting to be activated?

But as days wore on, as he watched her talking and laughing with Russel and 2D, his fear ebbed. She was still Noodle, still the same. But now he had his finger on a trigger and she was the gun.

Her words echoed in his mind. _ Your indifference_. As if he didn’t care at all whether she lived or died. Was that what she thought of him? He knew he took great care to seem unaffected and aloof. But she always saw through things like that. She saw what people tried very hard to hide. But maybe that was all she could see—the rot, the sickening parts that everyone else saw. Maybe rot was all that was left. Maybe he’d just been too horrible for even Noodle to forgive. And though he never would have admitted to it, it wounded him.

At the end of a month, he took the scrap from his breast pocket, flicked his lighter, and burned it, watching the paper curl into dust in his ashtray. The words would only exist where no one else could get them.

And he swore to himself never to say them aloud.

Noodle's body froze on its own. The ax slipped from her hands and clattered to the floor. Her mind washed away like shells by the ocean, sucked into an overwhelming darkness that shrouded all thoughts, all memories, all consciousness until she was rendered still and breathless.

Murdoc coughed, turning to look at her, his eyes wet.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, wrapping the chain around his hands until they went numb, holding himself back with every ounce of strength he had left.

She looked down at him, her eyes distant and flat.

"あなたは誰?"

He collapsed, pressing his forehead to the ground, his eyes screwed up tight.

"Good," he breathed, shoulders shaking with effort. "Now, get back in that vent and get out."

She looked all around, her mouth hanging open.

"何が起こっている?"

He clutched the chain, lashing out at her.

"Listen to me!"

She stepped back, her face full of fear and confusion. He grit his teeth.

“Leave!”

She took a hesitant glance over her shoulder to where Murdoc furiously pointed, seeing the open vent. He growled, lunging at her.

“_Leave!_”

Noodle took off at a run, diving into the vent. Murdoc trembled on the floor. He bent over, tears falling into his mouth as he heaved in choked sobs.


End file.
